Incision
by jihad
Summary: DN:AU, MxN  Mihael Keehl is your general snobby, sporty, most popular kid, that everyone drools over. But what if he's not really what he seems? No one's got it all.
1. Preface: Cut & Chapter 1: Whammy Prep

Hi! I'm glad you're reading this! It means a lot, really, but there are many things I would like to say first. They are very important, so don't skip through, friend.

I think it's best to start this off with what you need to know most.

First, I am NOT romanticizing suicide, self-harm, or mental disorders such as depression and bipolar. That is not my intention at all.

There is not one scene here where Near kisses Mello's scars or how Mello is in love with Near's depression and thinks it's "tragically beautiful."

Instead, you will see all the characters, suffering, struggling and _scared_ to see loved ones like this, just like ANYONE would in real life. The characters might not be real, but these are real feelings they are experiencing throughout the story. So if you think this is a romance story because Mello hurts himself and Near is overwhelmed with depression and anxieties and pills and whatnot, this is not what you are looking for.

If you are looking for a story like this; I advise you to stop. Suicide and self-harm are not beautiful or romantic. Period. It's pain, it's scary and it's fucking horrible.

Now that you you got that through your head, let's move on to other very important agendas.

**Trigger warnings:**

Above, I have already stated themes that are mental disorders, suicide, and self-harm.

There is also drug abuse, and use of pills. (Medication.)

**Other things you might look out for are:**

Potty mouths. Lots of potty mouths. If you hate profanity, I'm sorry; Mello and Matt cuss 24/7 in the story; (Along with a few other characters!)

Fist fights.

Yes, there is sex. No, there is no smut/lemon.

That aside, here are story disclaimers:

I try hard to make Mello and Near in character, and to be honest, in my opinion, they quite are. So it Matt, judging from the few panels we see him in.

Characters that are OOC, that would be mostly Light. But that does not mean there won't be any Easter Eggs. Yeah, there are a lot of Easter Eggs.

Anthony Rester - Yeah, he's pretty OOC, but I can say that he IS Near's father figure and guardian, just like Death Note: How To Read 13 states.

Stephen Gevanni - Yup, OOC! But what can I do? Easter Eggs!

Mikami - He's not that OOC, when you read into him. You'll see so much of Easter Eggs in his part, you won't even notice the difference.

Halle - OOC! She's more fun and loud mouthed here! But, other than that, don't expect any drastic changes.

Rod - Rod is not so much in here, but we can assume he's not that in character considering he is married to our one and only Halle. But two words - Easter Eggs!

Misa - I have no idea why I am putting her in this list, she's pretty in character, but there's one or two parts where she's not so Misa-Misa.

Our wonderful Matsuda - He's still the lovable, cute geek that he is, but there's just a bit of loose OOC screws in there.

There are minor OCs you'll see in here too, but they don't play big parts at all; they're just there.

Story telling: First person. Mello and Near's POVs. Mello gets every odd chapter and Near gets every even chapter. I am using everyone's real names. Mello Mihael Keehl, Near Nate River, Matt Mail.

Onto settings; This takes place in New York City, a year after 9/11.

Last few words:

Well, I hope you already get by now that this is an AU. (Alternate Universe)

I will also be stating the TW in each chapter, because I care about your comfort.

TW in this Chapter would be mention of cutting, and mention of use of medication.

Blah, blah, blah, I don't own Death Note! Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata do.

And most of all - Enjoy!

Thank you!

Much love,

Jihad.

* * *

><p>preface<p>

Monday: Boxing. Tuesday: Therapy. Wednesday: Football. Thursday: Piano & Basketball. Friday: Football Saturday: Soccer Sunday: Group Therapy

I sit in the kitchen munching on chocolate Cheerios, staring at my new 2002 school year's calendar. I go over my new schedule. A definite upgrade from last year.

I move my eyes over to the clock hanging beside mom and dad's calendars.

It's currently six thirty five in the morning on September first, Bronx, New York. I take a breath in.

First day of school.

Junior year. The second year of double digits.

Usually this wasn't a big fucking deal for me. I had tons of friends, fans, and dumb girls that drooled over me. No one bullied me. High school was total bullshit, and I could easily handle it.

The reason I was queasy, was because my whole school thought I've gone missing since December of last year. Then, I was in Russia the whole summer, so I hadn't talked to anyone over break.

People thought I was either dead or kidnapped. I wish I was dead or kidnapped, but unfortunately, I had to come back to school.

I was nervous. I was never nervous for _school_.

What were they going to think? What were they going to say? Were they going to point at me, gasp that I'm actually alive?

I hate being popular.

But hey, I should be proud. I should. I've wanted to go to Whammy Prep since I was a seventh grader. It was the fanciest high school in Manhattan. Just a few years back, I wanted to go to Whammy more than anything. I would've given up anything to go, and not to mention I seriously worked my ass off for their approval.

Now, three years in, I was accepted, and I was going to be in Manhattan in about half an hour to attend the legendary Whammy Prep for the third time in a row, and I was calm as a Hindu Cow. Calm about the fact I'm _still_ going to my dream High School.

Since I was thirteen, I was hoping I'd work hard enough to stay in until I graduate, and now, I really don't give a flying fuck.

It's funny how people can change so fast.

I wouldn't even care if I was going to a Community High School right now. I was bored of Whammy Prep.

If I was still the old me, I would've been jumping around, screaming "Whammy, Whammy, Whammy!"

But I wasn't. Clearly, I've changed.

Yeah, I'm still confused myself, about if this change was good or bad.

"Mihael, You ready? Whammy Prep here we come!" Halle walks into the kitchen, cheerily pumping her fist in the air. She's my adoptive mother.

She doesn't know I don't give a fuck about going to Whammy Prep. Shh, she can't know.

I hide my true complexion. I have always done this since December. I was better now, but yeah, I still mask my feelings.

I don't want Halle to be disappointed. So I plaster that mask of joy onto my face.

"Whammy!" I cheered with my fake smile, my fake pep, my fake laugh. My fake everything.

"Eat up, and brush, we're gonna go soon." she informed, getting an ice cold water bottle out of the fridge.

It's Monday. This means jogging at the YMCA in the morning for Halle. I look at Mom and Dad's schedule and memorize it when I'm eating my bowl of cereal. Instead of everybody else in the world who needs instant reading material when eating their bowl, I ignored the box and read over Halle's, Rod's, and my schedule.

Everyone reads the box, and does the little puzzles they have printed in the back of it. Maybe stare at the colorful images of the cereal's mascot, jumping around in comic strips.

But not me. I sit here reading over Rod's schedule.

Rod's my adoptive father. He has three conferences today.

"Mm, how long's the ride from Bronx to Manhattan again?" I munch.

"Twenty-three minutes." she answered, knocking back the water bottle between her lips.

"You sure there wont be any terrible traffic? Maybe we should wake up at five or exactly six... Maybe I'll motorcycle there... Maybe I could use the metr-"

"I'm sure there won't be that bad of traffic. I mean school starts at eight, it's only almost seven. We'll get there on time even if there's traffic, hun, don't worry." she waved it off, "If you're that excited about getting back to Whammy, then _eat_." she ordered after.

But I'm not.

Can I stay here, and get home schooled for the rest of my life?

__No__. says my rational conscience.

Annoyance pulses through me.

"Wow! You haven't seen Whammy in months! No wonder you're so excited! You must miss seeing all your little friends!" she clapped her hands together.

Stay calm as a Hindu Cow. Don't growl out the real emotions.

It'll be a mess. A messy mess, and you'll have to clean it all up afterward.

"Oh, yeah. _Definitely_ miss _them_." I grumble sarcastically the moment she jogs back up the stairs to her bedroom.

I garble down the rest of the chocolate Cheerios and paraded to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and fixed my hair up a bit.

I quickly glance in the mirror.

Confidence.

Hindu cow.

Head on my shoulders.

Though, I look away as fast as I can, I still cringe away from my own reflection. I didn't want to look at myself for more than two seconds. I'm tired of looking at my fucking face. I hate my face. It's too... me.

That's my biggest fear.

Me.

I can't look at myself. Not right now.

I walk out of the bathroom, and my phone vibrates a mini stroke in my jean pocket. It's Mail.

No not, e-Mail, Mail. It's Mail the human being. His name looks like Mail, sounds like Mile.

Mail Jeevas is my only best friend. He's the only who's actually always been there for me. The one who gets me. The one who does good favors. The one I can trust. The one I regret abusing. Oh, and the one who plays video games on end. X-box, Playstation, Gameboy, Nintendo and World of War Craft – He's got it all. The one who stays up all night to masturbate to lesbian porn. The one who always eats unhealthy as fuck; drinks soda pop, eats seven bags of chips, a few candy bars, and three cups of ramen each day but still stays skinny. The one who fans over TV shows and video game fan fiction on the Internet until he'd get tears in his eyes.

He was a total fucking nerd.

But I loved him.

If you haven't been around Mail; you haven't lived. He's a blast, not to sound too cheesy.

The text was asking me where he could meet me before school, and when I was going to be there.

I'm too lazy to reply.

I'm always too lazy to reply.

I stride tiredly to the garage door and start to put on chucks.

"Uh-uh-uh!" Halle stops me with her "_stop_" jerking tone.

"_What?_" I groan.

"Wrists." she says, an expectant stink eye narrowing at me.

Long story.

I pull up my sleeves and she looks at my bare arms. She closely scans over them for any signs of what she didn't want to see.

The stink eye fades, and instead comes an approving smile that tugged the corners of her mouth with pride.

"Good! Five weeks, honey, five weeks!" she said giddy.

"Yeah, great." I fake smile, which gets everybody. I haven't truly smiled since early December of last year. I don't know why everyone believes my strained smile, but I'm glad. I'm tired of hearing those two damn words, "What's wrong?"

Her happy eyes move over to her personal calendar hanging next to mine and Dad's, gets out her pen, clicks it, crosses out the slanted four from last week, and replaces it with a curvy five.

5 weeks it says.

Halle claps her hands together again.

She's such a dork, I swear to god.

"Honey, it's been more than a month, I'm so, so, so proud!" she pulls me into a tight loving hug. I try to wiggle out from the motherly embracing choke.

No luck.

I pat her back, with the only arm I could really still move. She always lets go earlier if you hug back. If you don't, she chokes you harder until you do.

"Yeah."

Only, it hasn't been five weeks. And it kills me inside that she thinks it has. I still secretly do it.

On my legs.

She never checks my legs. I'm not proud. My stomach always twists with nerves whenever she thinks that its been another week without me pulling a blade to my flesh and self harming.

I feel guilty.

I feel like worthless shit.

Though, I'm still a Hindu Cow.

My forced smile pulls with guilt across my face, while hers reflects with pure happiness. More guilt piles up.

I'm a fake. I'm a fraud.

Phony.

Which then again, drags me to do it in the first place. It's a never ending cycle of the self harm.

"Junior year!" she sings, and places a pill in the middle of my palm.

I have manic depression. I have to take that stupid pill everyday.

I don't want to take it. It doesn't do anything.

I bet it's a fucking placebo, and Halle and Rod are getting ripped off.

I quickly shove the bitter tasting capsule into my mouth and take the glass of water Halle had in her hands, washing it away down my throat.

"Yeah." I say again, giving the empty glass back to her.

Hopefully, this year will be okay.

Right?

* * *

><p>Chapter 1: Whammy Prep<p>

The hallways of Whammy Prep was like any other High School's crummy hallway.

Stale green lockers, random bits of trash around the dusty marvel floors, bundles and bundles of annoying kids, couples making out.

Though, this school was bigger than any other school in Manhattan. Four floors. Seven elevators, Five wings. That's pretty classy.

This school was founded by a dude with a huge mustache and tiny glasses named Quilish Whammy in 1847. His dream was to get kids with special talents and abilities to come together and learn and change the world or some shit like that.

I feel so bad for him, he was such a nice guy, died of a heart attack, and his dreams never came true in the end either; since this school is now just full of assholes and fucking idiots.

This school didn't _look_ so classy. I'm sure back in the day it was pretty perfect, but two centuries later, it had gone to shit.

This school didn't even have uniforms. Not that I wanted uniforms, I'm just saying; Fancy Prep schools like this would make you think we have uniforms.

I walk down the hall of the first floor, (The only carpeted floor, actually,) making my way through hundreds of new, old, familiar and unfamiliar faces. All staring right at me.

Of course, at me. I'm me.

Why did I have to be me.

Kids from last year weren't taking their eyes off of me.

"_He's alive?!"_

"_Whoa, look it's Keehl!"_

"_You're lying, he got hit by a truck!"_

"_No, he moved!"_

"_I heard he killed himself!"_

"_Are you serious?" "No way!"_

Oh, _god_.

The popular guys from last year sup nodded me.

I hate the sup nod, it's so dumb and annoying.

I was so sick of it.

I spot more old faces wide their eyes at me.

"Whoa, hey Mihael! What's up? Good to see you, man!" says another kid named Jack from last year.

We call him Neylon though. He was one of my friends.

__Whoa hey Neylon, Everything is up. Everything is terrible. Everything is shit. Bad to see you too, man.__

Hindu cow, fake gleaming smile, fake happy voice, 3, 2, 1;

"Hey Neylon! Not much, Good to see you too, dude."

I do this with the rest of my old popular friends as they continued to move throughout the halls, surprised to even notice me here.

Great. I was hoping everyone forgot me, but no, I was still noticeable.

They were coming in rows, and rows. Just greeting me.

__Shut up__, I thought when the girls greeted me.

__I don't care__, I thought when the guys greeted me.

Though outside, I performed the same fake act to make the same old world go round.

And then.

It happened. The least thing I wanted to happen. The person I least wanted to see.

That stupid brunette Japanimation haircut and his fancy, expensive clothes that girls longed after.

Light. Fucking. Yagami.

Another long story. Another novel.

I try to turn around, but it's too late.

"Mihael!" he ran up, and tackled me, tight, too. He laughed cheerfully, as we rolled around on the floor hugging. Actually, I didn't dare to hug the bastard back, why did I just say _we?_

"Hey..." I mumbled dryly, taking in the old whiff of cherry, pricey cologne, and potato chips.

"I missed you so much!" he cried out.

"...Get offa me now..." I told him.

I didn't even bother to put on my fake act. I hated Light Yagami, that much. With every bone in my fucking body.

"Guess what, dude!" he broke out of the unrequited hug, and lifted me back up to my feet.

"What?" I sighed, annoyed. _Don't you see that I hate you?_

"I lost my virgin Mary man, I lost it while you were in Soviet Russia drinkin' vodka, with your sexy mom!" he laughed.

I twitched when he mentioned my mom. And that he called her sexy. I should have never emailed him the pictures from Russia. He didn't even ask how my trip went, he just emailed back with all these remarks,

"Whoa your mom is _SEXYYY_."

"Dude, can I do your mom?"

"How much does your mom pay an hour?"

"Dude, so when do I get to do your hot mom?"

"No wonder why you're so sexy, you got it from your hot mom!"

Yeah, I never replied back. I don't even think twice to open Light's emails anymore. Not because I hate him, I just can't handle that kind of feedback towards my mother. My birth mother that is.

"Is that so...?"

Of course. _Of course._ Of _fucking_ course.

Of course he lost his virginity, and started rub it in my face.

Like I give a fuck what Light's sex life has been going.

"Yeah dude, I fucked Misa Amane." Light nodded in his own approval, a malicious grin crossing his face.

"Wonderful?" I tried to think of a word to describe this little event of his.

I didn't know who to feel more sorry for in this situation, actually, Misa or Light?

I already know that Light's using her for sex and making her buy shit for him with her model money, and Misa Amane gets attached easily so she probably does everything Light says. And then on Light's side; she's completely fucking insane, and unbelievably dumb at times. Not to mention she's going to be hard to get rid of, because she's one of those psycho girlfriends, completely delusional, attached and clingy. Plus, if Light breaks up with her, there is a huge chance her brother Rem will _definitely_ murder him.

And by murder; I mean _murder_.

"It was in _my_ room." Light said, proud.

How did he even get into this school? Do I even care that it was in his room? What the fuck does it _matter_?

This kid is an idiot. This must be a scam. There's no way this is the legendary Whammy Prep with _Yagami_ under its roof.

Okay I lied. I know he acts like a complete idiot, but Light is actually a straight A student, ranks the highest in test scores with a high academic IQ. He's also into sports, top of the team with me. I have every goddamn sport I play at Whammy with Light, except for his beloved tennis.

"Great. Your room is the best place to have sex in, considering your poor mother is downstairs the whole day wiping your ass." I said with a sarcastic voice.

I was fuming. _OF COURSE_ he lost his virginity and he was bloating all about it right in front of me. It's not that I'm jealous, sex is something I don't want at _all_, and Misa Amane creeps me out. It's just that Light's a cunt and he loves pissing people off by bragging; and the bragging isn't pissing me off, the fact that Light's being a cunt on purpose is.

I think Light's fucking special talent is pissing people off, scratch all his high academic ACT scores.

"Whatever dude, everyone's impressed that I fucked the hottest girl here, so consider this as a stoke of good luck hanging with me. We'll be more popular." he patted my back.

_Yeah, NO._

All I want to do right now is jump off of the fourth floor of this god forbidden school, _someone kill me_.

I'm just going to ignore what he just said, and change the subject. I didn't _actually_ want to hurt his feelings. I wasn't going to tell him I didn't want to hang with him, no matter how popular he was. I wasn't going to tell him I didn't like him at all anymore, and that he was on my current blacklist. I didn't want to tell him I had no intention of even being near him.

That would be _way_ too cruel. I'm not _that_ mean. I have _some_ manners.

"And, apparently everyone knows?" I asked, as we started to stride down the hall further.

"Yeah, I mean, Misa's telling everyone, she's totally obsessed with me. You know how cheerleaders gossip." his prideful smile grew bigger.

I sighed.

"Cool, I guess... Hope you used a condom." I gave him a halfhearted thumbs up.

"No biggie dude, even if protection didn't work, she'd love to have my child."

"Uh-huh."

Sarcasm.

No female would ever want to have Light's love child. She'd rather die a horrible death than make another DNA copy of Light Yagami.

"Light! Mihael!" we flew our heads around to see who was calling us over. Another one of my old friends, Zakk, was calling us over to him and his crew, and happily waving to me.

"Mihael! What's up, dude? I thought you we're dead!"

"Oh hey, man! Nope. Perfectly alive this whole time." I grin. It's totally fake, of course.

Light skipped over to Zakk and the rest of the football team.

"C'mon, fuckstick, let's go hang with Zakk!"

Light sometimes calls me fuckstick because every girl at school stated last year that they wanted to fuck me. They made a poll book, put all the hottest guys in there, and asked almost every girl who'd they fuck.

I came first, then came Light, the rest I really honestly forgot.

He came to the conclusion that I was "a stick that everyone wanted to shove in their pussy."

Ewgh.

That's so fucking disgusting.

When Light stole the poll book from the cheerleader's locker room he ran up to me and told me that all the girls wrote I was "drop dead gorgeous" on my poll page. That's when Light began to tell me all this stuff about girl logic and apparently the fact that I was impossible to get made girls more devoted to getting me.

It's not like I give a fuck.

Girls are so weird.

I get a shiver down my neck for a second; I will _never_ have sex with a woman. The fact that girls wanted to have sex with me, _scared_ me.

I don't like dick, either, I just wasn't really attracted to anything. I'm asexual.

"MISH, MISH, MISH!" my favorite voice of phlegm piped up from behind me before I can even make a dreading step over to Zakk and the others.

Excited rush of adrenaline.

I turned around, actually happy, actually smiling, facing my real, best friend. Nothing was fake. Everything was pure, real.

It made me even happier when I acknowledged I wasn't putting on some act.

Pure. Happiness. A true smile crossing my face.

"Hey, Mish!" grinned Mail. His award winning grin's gleaming all around.

In Russia, I went to a special cram school in Moscow to get my grades up to help me stay at Whammy. I was surprised that the kids there didn't call me by my full name 'Mihael', (and for the first time I wasn't the only Mihael in the whole school,) they called me by a shortened nickname that originated from Mihael, it was just, "Mish" or "Mishka."

Which meant bear.

I found this quite interesting and wrote the experience in an daily email I shot out to Mail. Mail really liked the name Mish for some odd reason and just started to call me that. Plus, I have a little part of Russia that lingers on with me now. I get to be called Mish back in New York too. I don't mind it. I really like Mish or Mishka. I think it's neat.

I haven't seen him in a couple of weeks. We hung out the moment I came back, Halle, Rod, and Mail picked me up at the airport, and he slept over and I told him more about my real mom and how cool some of the kids at my cram school were. I also got better at soccer because that's the only sport my Russian buddies would play after school each day.

We couldn't hang out the rest of the remaining summer because he had to work his three jobs and I had to catch up on my Whammy work that was sent through to Rod and Halle's mailbox.

"Hey!" I giggled. It wasn't fake. For once, I felt the difference of a fake and real laugh. The real feeling going up your throat. The flutter in your gut and heart.

"Did you get your schedule yet?" Mail took his hamburger style folded paper out of his sweatshirt pocket, "I wanna see what classes we got together."

"Oh, shit, I forgot to go get it, wanna come with me? I'm not hanging out with Light or Zakk right now, anyway." I waved over to the secretary table I spotted, standing at the end of the hall.

"Sure." Mail declared, and we rushed to the small remaining line in front of the Schedule table. Once we got up to the front of the line, the sixty-year old looking secretary drawled her annoyed, tired voice at me.

"Name?"

"Keehl, Mihael" I told her.

She shuffled through fancy looking file folders in a blue crate that was labeled with a big, bold, 'K.'

"Is it spelled out, K-E-E-H-L?" she groaned back to me, pushing her hot pink rimmed glasses back up.

"Yup." I quickly said.

She took a long three seconds to process which schedule was mine, but eventually the secretary with the name tag that read "Beth" took out my official schedule with her wrinkled, bony fingers.

"Here," she sighed, "Don't lose it, or it'll be another trip to the copy room for me." she laughed dryly. I wasn't sure if it was her aged shaky voice that made her sound so sarcastic or if she actually joking.

"Thank you." I said, and turned back around to Mail.

He put both our schedules up in comparison and we silently read it.

1st Hour: German Mr. Lishe Room 280

2nd Hour: Honers English Mrs. Porter Room 321

3rd Hour: Geography Mr. Cameron Room 256

LUNCH BREAK: SECTION A Floor 1, Commons

4th Hour: Physical Education Mr. Stone GYM 1, Floor 1

5th Hour: Physics Ms. Way Room 129

6th Hour: Pre Calculus Mr. Yates Room 307

"We have German AND Geography together." Mail told.

"Damn, but I'm in lunch Section C, and you're are in A." I said, "Guess this is the first time you and I don't have lunch..."

"It's not like you sat with me anyway, you we're always with Light and Mikami and them." he laughed passively.

My stomach dropped. He was still trying to make the terrible mistakes that I did last year sound like it was _cool_ with him, and not such a big deal, but I knew it wasn't _cool_. It _was_ a big deal.

I'm still sorry from the bottom of my fucking heart for treating him like that, but he just keeps pretending it was alright.

I wanted to say something but he cuts me off before I can even make a sound, "I'll just play Pokemon then, no biggie." he said thoughtfully.

No Mail, it is a biggie.

"Man, we don't have as much classes as last time..." I said.

"Yeah that's cause Mihael Keehl is too smart and talented for me, look, Pre Calculus, Physics and Honors English, Holy shit, Jimmy Neutron!"

"Oh c'mon," I laughed.

"No. DON'T TALK TO ME. I'M TOO _DUMB_." Mail started to throw his "I'm so offended!" temper tantrum. Of course he was joking around, but it takes him five minutes to get out of character.

I looked down at the bottom of the page, which contained my locker information.

WING K, SECOND FLOOR,

Locker: 261 Combination: 13-23-33

Last Name division organization:

F1: abcdefghi F2: jklmnopqr F3: stuvwxyz

"Fuck yes! I have it easy this year! My whole comb ends with threes, and goes by tens!" I grinned in success.

Last year mine was 23-46-01, a combination from Satan.

"Lucky," Mail whined.

Karma's a bitch to those who had their combination as 5-5-3 last year.

I guffawed.

"No lunch together, but you and I are on the same floor, same wing for lockers as always" Mail tried to lighten up.

Thank god Mail had the last name of Jeevas, or else our lockers would've never been on the same floor and it would've been hell going throughout each mile flight of stairs to get to each other after school.

I think god gave me a break on this one because Light's a whole floor above me.

Just then the P.A. came on.

It's the principal. Roger Riue, was the guy's name, and I swear, he seriously fucking hates all of us, that fucker is always moping around and changing the school's rules to something either stupid or impossible each fucking month because he has nothing better to do.

Roger's grim voice does the same word for word speech every first day of school, "Students, this is a ten minute warning that classes will begin soon. The five minute bell will ring after, the final bell shall ring at eight, afterward, and you should all be expected to be at your classes. Thank you." the announcement always ended with the same muffled click of the P.A. Speaker's off switch.

"Let's get a move on upstairs, I don't want to be late." Mail groaned.

Even if it was the first day of school, Whammy Prep doesn't care if you're not used to your new classroom locations _on the very first day of school_, you''ll _still_ get detention if you're late.

"Dude, German's on the second floor, and so are our lockers, you wanna go see how far apart our lockers are?" Mail nudged me as we walked up the staircase, pushing past a few kids.

"Seems reasonable." I commented with a nod.

"What's your number this time?" I asked.

"Two-seventy-nine." Mail goes, glancing back at my sheet and scanning it over.

"Oh, we're not that far away, this time, less freshmen!" I concluded, as I read my locker number again. 261.

_Wonder why that is._

Oh wait, I know why, Light, Mikami and I ruined the school's reputation in December.

My stomach lurched.

We entered our assumed wing, thankfully nothing rowdy; there's just only a few kids scattering down it.

Shit, I don't remember this! It looks completely different.

"Is this our wing?" Mail mumbled, looking around rapidly, "It got renovated, didn't it?"

"Wait, are you serious? Did it move onto the other side? What asshole thought that was a brilliant idea?"

"Probably fuckin' Riue's! Look, it's not even fucking labeled!" Mail flabbergasted.

"Hmm..." I stopped in the middle of the unknown wing, leaving Mail to slowly wander ahead of me.

I flipped over the schedule which had the map of the school on the back. It wasn't such a good quality, and since this was a large school, all the floors printed on the map were small and crummy to read correctly. You pretty much needed a magnifying glass to decode it. In the meantime there's Mail; hopelessly turning his head in every direction to look for any signs or indications of what our old locker wing actually was now.

I tried to scan the map, confused what every labeled particle meant. I squinted my eyes.

__What?__

__What does that say?__

__Fuck you, map! I need to know where my locker is. Do we really have to carefully scan all the goddamn locker numbers?!__

"That's funny...I don't think..." I trailed off, trying to tell him the map didn't have the locker wings labeled on it.

"Mm?" Mail didn't turn back to me, he just went further down the hall and awkwardly turned the corner.

"...they... have... it... u-"

I'm cut off by something.

Then.

The most confusing thing in the whole wide world happened.

Something caught my eye.

Caught it and then fully directed all its attention toward it.

All of it.

Where is my pretentious Hindu Cow?

__I'm afraid, It's not there, sir. __says my brain.

Knock? Knock? Who's there?

My heart.

My heart who?

My heart is the one who is _knocking_.

I don't get the joke. I know it's knocking, but what does it want?

Tell me what do you want, heart?

It's not saying anything. It's ignoring me. It's still doing _IT_.

Pounding. Thumping.

I'm not physically active right now.

Thump thump thump. Knock knock knock.

What is this feeling?

Is this how fondness feels like?

It was like one of those perfect movie moments, when the guy first notices the beautiful girl, who becomes his love interest, that coincidentally is standing near him, in his view, and she catches his eye once he notices she is standing near him, looking breathtakingly beautiful.

Then he catches his breath.

Though he doesn't know what to say. And then they part.

Cut. Scene.

It's not a girl.

It's a boy.

He's so beautiful.

I'm infatuated. I think. I feel fondness. I think.

I've never really felt either one, so how am I supposed to know how it really feels like? Is this it?

He is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my life.

Everything is paused. My whole world is paused. I don't see anything but him.

Who are you? Why am I attracted to you?

My heart is beating like a drum, and my face has this rush, that I haven't felt for anyone. I'm ignited.

I have never felt this. I'm _Mihael Keehl_. I'm not attracted to anyone. I don't usually like anyone. Why?

I don't have crushes.

And then. I got one. For the first time in my life, I was attracted. I wanted to come up to him, and kiss him all around. And it was a he.

_Him_. I'm not gay. But everything about him just...

He was opening his locker. Turning the nob with long bony delicate fingers. His skin looked soft, touchable. Smooth. He looked like a china doll, to be more exact. His skin was pale, but shining. He had white hair. White. Snowy white hair. Big onyx eyes. They were also beautiful. He was gaunty and short. Cute as hell. And enough about his gleaming toned arms and face, his legs are really cute and small too.

I wanted to touch everything.

Shit. Does that sound _creepy_?!

But, he looks so interesting.

How come I've never seen him around before? Is he a new kid? Is he a freshmen? _What's going on?_

He looked so quiet, so elegant, so petite, so delicate. As if I'd touch him, he'd break into one million pieces.

He was like an interesting museum artifact. You want to touch it, because it's so amazing, but off limits to even breathe on.

I don't even know your name.

But my heart. What is it doing.

He was boy. I'm so confused. I'm...

Confused.

"Mihael? Dude, c'mon, fuck it, lets go, this place is confusing. We're gonna be super late if we try any harder." Mail came back around the corner.

It was only a few seconds in reality, but in my world it took a millennium.

"Uh? Uh-huh..." was the only thing that I can struggle back out. I was still turning all my attention to this boy. I was mesmerized.

I started to walk forward, very slowly, my eyes still at gaze all over him, checking if this boy would actually look at me.

I wanted him to look at me. Notice me. More than anything.

"Yeah, um, let's go..." I said a little intended. Pretty fucking loud as well. Mail narrowed his eyes in confusion.

Nope. No attention.

He didn't even move.

But I was always the center of attention.

Everyone always looked at me.

Why didn't he?

This isn't fair. I actually like someone for the first time, and they're not looking at me. Why isn't he looking at me? Everyone looks at me!

Now I'm all angry and disappointed and confused and dead inside.

It's funny how one person can change someone's mind and feelings in one tiny, simple, little action.

Because of __him__, everything was now about him.

The whole hour through German, all I did was think how perfect, how beautiful, how cute he was.

How he didn't look at me. How much it saddened me.

I wondered who he was. I hadn't ever seen him around before.

Is he a freshman?

__Who was that? He's so beautiful... Who? God, he was the most beautiful thing I have seen in my entire life.__

"Mihael, did you pick out your German name?" Mr. Lishe snapped me out of my zoned dimension, and back into his dull class.

"Adalfreddo." I told him. He jolts it down on the chart.

"Dude, what is with you?" Mail's voice was below a whisper as soon as Lishe turned away to the board.

"I-I-I don't know..." I lightly scribbled my pencil in deep thought on my blank note page below me.

Then it was back to the beautiful boy. Thinking everything about him.

What his name was.

What grade he was in.

How old he was.

Where he was from.

I even wondered how his parents looked like. They made something so angelic. Were they both pretty as well?

Thinking, thinking, thinking.

Everything. Everything possible about him. Me, zoning out. The whole hour.

The only thing that crossed my mind?

Him.

Not German. Not anything else. I was a flushed Hindu Cow in the back row. Thinking. Finally, for the first time in my life, falling for someone.

I couldn't believe it.

I needed him. Now.

But. Of course, I was still living my life, so I had a terrible outcome;

I didn't get to see him through the rest of September.

For the rest of the month, the boy who I suddenly fell for, disappeared. Nowhere to be be seen.

Poof. Just like that.

I didn't see him for a long time.

But I didn't forget about him.


	2. Chapter 2: Withering

Hello! Time for Near's POV! (Nate)

**TW:** Depression, Mention of use of anti-depressants, Mention of a loved one's death.

I hope you enjoy!

I don't own Death Note. [sobs quietly in corner]

* * *

><p><em>I feel dry and worthless.<em>

_Everything's the same._

_I'm withering._

I slowly awake into reality, starting to sense the cotton covers of my bed, some of the feathers inside it, starting to pierce me with their bottoms. I groan gently. I somehow always wake up two minutes before my alarm clock starts to bark the morning news at me.

"Goooooood Morning, New York City, It is seven-thirty ay-yem, on September the first, two-thousand and two." says Chuck, NYC's morning news reporter. He is, indeed, very annoying. He would always chant 'good' way too long, which makes my awake to each day even more agitating.

Each morning, I wistfully yearned that I would wake up dead.

Well, actually, it wouldn't be waking up, would it?

Either way. I want to die.

"MONDAY, September the first, and you know what that means!" sung Alex, the other reporter. Female to be exact. And also annoying.

Maybe it was just me though. Since _I_ had to _arise_ to this.

"First, day, of schoooool, students of New York City!"

I stretched out of bed, and clicked the alarm clock off.

"Shut up." I muttered.

"Nate?" Rester stumbled out of his bedroom across from mine, rubbing his eyes, "You awake?"_  
><em>"Unquestionably..." I answered.

"Good." the corners of his mouth pulled into a tiny smile. One of those little smiles that showed pity, but also had "everything's going to be alright," written all over it.

Annoyance pulsed through me. I hate those kind of smiles. And I'm sick of them.

Rester walks out of my room, and into the kitchen to make himself coffee. Without anything. That's how he likes it. Without anything at all. Stale and bland. Just like everything else.

I give out a desperate sigh, and pull down my plaid pajamas. Light blue and white lines, squares and patterns, fall to my socks. I sleep in my socks.

When I was a little kid, and I went to bed, I was scared of monsters that would pull me out of my bed. I hated when things touched my open skin. It shriveled me in horror.

So I wore socks, along with pajamas that covered every inch of my skin.

I'd also bury myself in covers.

When I grew up, I got used to the socks, but I grew out of wearing the long sleeved, button up pajama shirts when I finally moved away from my old foster home parents. Now, I just wear flannel pajama pants, socks, be completely shirtless.

I still crawl into a feather-down cover cocoon, though.

I stared at my body in the mirror, standing in only underwear and socks.

I took a sad breath in through my nose, a slight whistle, pitifully coming through my nostrils.

You can see my ribs, some other bones sticking slightly. My stomach is dead flat.

My legs are like straight tubes.

I don't eat much. I don't want to eat. I'm never hungry.

I'm always just, drinking. Milk, coffee, water, maybe a sport's drink. Maybe eat a few pieces of a sandwich, since I get anxiety from the fact that I might pass out each day from eating nothing. So basically, I force pieces of the fuel down my throat.

I staggered over to my closet, and pulled on some jeans and a light shirt.

I shrugged to myself. I looked so shitty, but whatever. I'm not going to Whammy to make friends, I'm going to Whammy to learn.

"Hey, sport, Breakfast is ready." Rester came to my door once again, leaning on the open frame, dried toothpaste around his thin lips.

I don't comment on the food.

I burst out in yawn.

"You have a little schmutz, right there." I told him, demonstrating the toothpaste stains on me by pointing to the corner of my mouth,

"Oh," he scraped the back of his hand over his mouth, in thought,

"What else did I wanna tell you?" he stammered to himself, "Oh-Right-Whammy. Are you ready?"

We both knew I was going to get into Whammy Prep, "_the best high school in New York City."_

He knew I wasn't excited. He didn't ask why.

Unlike the usual parent that always questioned their child with pep if they were excited for their first day; Rester just asked if I was ready.

"Yes." I told him, dry. I don't care about anything, actually. That's why I was ready.

I'm serious: _I don't care about_ _anything_.

Well, I cared about Rester very much, and Gevanni. And mom. But I guess she's out of my range to care for now.

But nothing else.

I walked out of my room and into our kitchen. The kitchen is too large for a rented floor like this, in my opinion.

Even if it's abnormally large for this floor, this is the _standing point._

By this I mean, this space is where you could stand, and perfectly hear the college kids downstairs yell over football and party or whatever.

I hear a girl moaning and guy grunting downstairs.

I almost puke from how disgusting the sound was.

I try my best to ignore the college students having sexual intercourse downstairs, but I get even more annoyed by it.

Heterosexual intercourse makes me cringe terribly.

I was gay, so I didn't like hearing girls moan like that. Or even thinking about girls having sex with men.

I sit in relief at the capacious counter table, (Rester and I never eat at our little table for two that stands in the corner by the kitchen's window) staring at the steaming plate of scrambled eggs and bacon.

I hate eggs, and I don't really like bacon. In the meantime, I just drink my cold glass of milk.

After I'm done drinking, I nibble on the bacon. A few large chunks and pieces are left, and the other half devoured by me, so I don't pass out at school. I then shovel the rest of the uneaten food down the sink's composer. I let it sit in there until I get back from school, when I'm alone, and click on the switch, and shred it.

That's the only thing that Rester doesn't know about me.

That I don't eat.

Everything else; He knows.

My clinical depression, my social anxiety, my sexuality, my shitty past.

Rester walks out of our bathroom and back into the kitchen, yawning.

"Wow, you're already done? Geez, you were hungry." Rester sits down next to me and starts to chew on his breakfast.

"Yup." I reply. I wait for him to finish eating while we make small talk, because the next part is the part we _actually_ do together.

Because we always do these kinda things together. We were in it together.

After he's done eating, I get ready in the bathroom.

I come out, and he's at the counter. Waiting for me. Two glasses of water. Two pills.

Both anti-depressants.

50 mg.

We both have clinical depression.

We were both affected by September, 2001.

Then it's the same old thing that happens, everyday. The same old routine.

My heart sinks with the wretched emptiness, my stomach churns with nerves, loneliness chokes in my throat.

He stares into my eyes, assuring me, we'll be okay.

Then we pop the 50 mg in our mouth, and swallow, bitter. Scared. Hoping for the change the pills had promised us.

"First day of school," he whispered to me, choking on the aftermath of the dull taste of the pill, "Don't forget you have piano afterward." he smiled.

I don't reply, but I'm overjoyed inside. Piano.

I loved playing piano. It was my escape, as well as listening to music.

I actually also escaped when I was with Gevanni.

He's my best friend.

"Marvelous." I finally said. Voice, again robotic.

It's hard to talk normally when you're depressed. It's hard not to say anything dry, anything actually normal sounding.

When I talked, I sounded heartless, and robotic, like shards of ice were compressing out of my mouth.

"Seven-forty-three, Oh god, Nate, we better get going," he looked at his Hugo watch he got for Christmas from Mom last year. He loved that watch.

"Not such a big deal. It takes about fourteen minutes, from Harlem to Manhattan," I whirled and stalked away to the closet, assuring him.

I put on keds, and a sweatshirt in case if I get that new autumn chill.

Rester smiles, "You look great! Are you ready?"

I nodded slowly. Except I didn't look great. He's just being nice again so I don't get a panic attack.

I put my school bag over my shoulder, hung onto the strap, and stood there watching Rester get his work items ready.

"Okay, sport, let's go." we walk out the door, and he locks it behind us.

The same old routine.

Our rented house was just behind a large, wooden fence that separated the neighborhood and the metro. You hear so many subway trains whiz by at night. I hear the rattling rust of the tracks as the wheels screech across them.

Smells like developing autumn. Feels like dying August.

It was damp outside, a cozy arm mixture, between a small chilly haze. I shivered a tiny bit as we stepped foot outside, but then got used to the aurora.

Rester doesn't own a car. We live so close to the NYC transportation, it isn't even necessary.

We part ways when we walk to our needed subway station. He has to get to the other part of Manhattan, where he works for GNY Insurance.

I'm on the other side, at Whammy.

"Bye, sport," he says.

"Bye dad." I exclaimed robotically.

I walk to the other side of the fence, around downtown, and graffiti decorated walls.

I walk past the Coca-Cola mural, that shouts "Always Harlem, Always Real!" at you.

I finally get around and walk down the cement way to the station.

I sit and wait on the cold metal bench for my subway train to come, as I text Gevanni.

I can't really handle the socialism during the first day of school. If I didn't have Gevanni at my use, I would pass out from the rowdiness of the students around me.

So, every first day of school since Gevanni and I met, he rides with me to school so I don't collapse in the hall way. He's actually a junior this year, but he's cut his own time out for the past two years riding over to my crappy middle school along with me and helping me get to my locker safely without almost fainting.

I felt so bad for him all the time. He's been a high school kid hanging out with a seventh grader, (well, afterward eighth,) but somehow he always says it's no big deal and and that he enjoys helping and being around me.

Ugh, poor Gevanni, huh?

He's always been a good friend.

Gevanni texts back. He's already at his stop, which is three stops away from mine.

After a few short, random texts later, my train arrived. People going to work strode passed my in jiffy, bumping into my shoulders or heavily brushing against my bag as they got on and off.

When I got on, I lean down into the plastic seat, and closed my eyes tiredly. I started to a breathing exercise. The one where you breathe into your nose and out of your mouth, very slowly. The social anxiety was already getting to me, and I needed Gevanni, now.

I'm too hard on myself. I thought I was the most worthless person alive. But the doctors said that's what comes with Clinical Depression, you think you're the biggest waste of space on the planet.

More awkward texts come from Gevanni. I fluttered my lids open, and opened the digital envelope floating vibrantly on the screen.

"Haha so, what are you doing?"

I read the text in Gevanni's awkward voice.

"Just waiting for you." I shuffled my thumbs across the buttons and hit send.

I wished he wouldn't be this awkward. I wanted my old Gevanni back.

The justification for Gevanni's now awkward actions toward me this year was because over the summer he asked me out on a date. Well, you know, to be my _boyfriend_.

I was horrified, and astonished by this, because not only did I acknowledge him as a friend, and an accomplice, I wanted it to stay like that. I thought if I let him down, Gevanni wouldn't be my friend anymore.

I told him I'd like a few days to think of my answer, and I just came to the rational conclusion that I must tell him the truth.

_"You're on crack, there's nothing to like about me..." _I told him apologetically.

_"Yes, there is! Nate, stop saying that! If you only knew how much people cared about you! You think __you're such a low life but you're not like that, I don't get why you can't see that!" _he was more angry about the fact I insulted myself, than my pathetic deny to his relationship request. A lot of people liked me back when I was in middle school and eventually told me they had wanted to be with me, but I just let it out on myself that I was an ugly prick and that they really wouldn't want to be in a relationship with them. That'd I'd ruin their love life.

Gevanni really didn't like this.

_"Nate that's what YOU think! Not them! You don't know how many people would feel so lucky to be with someone like you! Stop putting those stupid fucking thoughts into your head!" _

_This is what he always said to me after I'd reject some girl at school or a guy we'd meet at the parties Gevanni invited me to._

I was such a prick. I'd get tied up with people at those dumb parties, kiss them as a hook-up thing in these stupid party games, and they somehow just start to like me.

I should just stop kissing people at parties. Seems like the most rational thing to do. Maybe less and less people will notice me. I don't even get what they saw in me.

Anyways, after Gevanni yelled at me for putting myself down, I told him that I just saw him as my best friend. He just winced and nodded, and went home.

I guess he understood, but he's been a little awkward talking to me lately, and It's driving me up a wall. Insane.

I just wanted to bang my head against the stupid Gucci perfume advertisement next to me. I was mocking the last text over and over in my head.

Asking me what I was up to while on the subway. Original Gevanni would've never asked me what I 'was up to' when he knew where I was, and especially when I was taking the subway. Who does that?

_Oh, just robbing this old lady who's sitting across from me, nothing much._

_Oh, just bombing the the train, nothing intense going on._

_Oh , just selling dope to kids, nothing much!_

I actually now wanted to message that back, but it was too late, and I wasn't usually this sarcastically agitated, I didn't want to hurt Gevanni's feelings because of the crappy mood I was in.

The next text buzzes.

"Cool."

_Yeah, so "cool!"_ I rolled my eyes, and shoved the phone back into my pocket without answering.

What the hell am I supposed to reply to that?

I shut my eyes for a bit of rest, but approximately ten seconds later I get another text from Gevanni.

"What cubby on the train are you on? Quickly though, its about to board, Nate."

I text him '2B', and in about two minutes a panting, dark haired kid hops into the entryway.

Oh look, it's Gevanni.

Looks like he got cold this morning, because he was wearing a knit jumper.

He plopped down next to me, without a salutation. My face shows no emotion, but inside I'm extremely affronted, a rumbling volcano of angry building up slowly.

"Hi." I said.

"Hey..." he mumbled, facing away.

That's it.

Eruption.

I swung my foot into his ankle.

"OW!" he jumped, starting to rub the hit spot.

"What the hell was that for?" he cried, a strange giggling edge to wail.

"Stop being all 'bleh' around me!" I tried to keep my mocking voice down, keeping it to the exact volume level I wanted for the both of us to be hearing.

The tone worked out. No one turned to face me after I yelled at him. I was proud of myself for calculating the volume.

Gevanni stayed quiet, gesturing an awkward gaze away from my face.

_"Okay, let's just forget about July..."_ he whispered. I blinked in agreement, when he rolled his gray eyes back to look at mine.

A soft, balmy touch on the front of my right hand made me pounce I tiny bit, defensive. Gevanni jumped back.

I let the ones who I trust touch me, so jumping from his own touch made him surprised. I don't know why I jumped when he touched me, Maybe learning that he was in love with me over the summer made my view on him, change as well. I shook the thought out of my head.

_Let your best friend touch you, Nate. Let him. _

"Sorry!" I rolled my eyes, astonished at my own behavior. Maybe it was because I didn't see his skin's brush coming. When I didn't notice the touch coming, I flabbergasted even more.

It was because I was used to getting blows that I didn't see coming, and any touch, even if they were harmless, shook me up and horrified me.

"I was just going to touch you, because I thought you were shaking... and..." Gevanni tensed, clasping my hand into his, "you are..."

He felt my vibrating hand from my adrenaline shivers.

"First day of high school. I'm pretty scared. Whammy... Is huge... and that means... triple... or quadruple the students..." I kept my voice light.

Gevanni grunted softly, acknowledging in my tiny fear. More relieved that the reason wasn't from his touch, but the usual social anxiety problem with me.

"Nate, you're going to be FINE with me." he gave me a tiny belonging smile.

My gut tensed with wild impatience, giving me his assurance. I knew it was true, but my anxiety would never accept it and take it into it's system. Every year it was like this, and I came out fine, and alive because of Gevanni, relieved I didn't pass out in the hallway. My brain knew everything was going to be fine, but my gut and adrenaline wouldn't pause to figure it out.

And this time, there was going to be four thousand more students, all probably seven thousand feet taller than me, gawking into my soul with their disapproval.

I shiver, thinking of all the older kids.

I wanted to get it over with.

It got even colder outside as Gevanni and I exited the Subway, that slight white puff that would come out of your mouth as you breathed started to take action.

That's odd. I have never lived a morning like this, where the weather got even colder.

Gevanni still held my hand as we approached Whammy and I completely forgot about our linked fingers. His touch still grew less and grew less foreign to me.

"Whoa! Homosexual couple out in the open!" I heard a few girls whisper.

I swiftly let go of Gevanni hand, once I had noticed.

Gevanni pushed through the clique, face turning scarlet.

He turned to look at me doubtfully, and my stomach instantly dropped.

I hated High School already.

"S-Sorry..." Gevanni whispered once our eyes locked again.

I've never been hurt because someone didn't want me, but I've seen people get hurt because the person they wanted, didn't want them. Mostly I've witnessed this because I was the reason, and I watched it eat them up. It was worse with Gevanni, since he was my one and only best friend. I felt like I was treating him terribly, and after all he's done for me.

Ignoring the fact that there were a few older teenagers staring down at us, I stood there, feeling bad for yanking my hand out of Gevanni's. If I wasn't over thinking this, I would've been feeling very uncomfortable, and squirmy having their eyes on me.

I was so stoic about rejecting people who liked me on the outside, and it resulted them to become even more hurt. I try and comfort, but everything just comes out robotic with my depression, making me sound like a careless freak about the fact I hurt them.

So now, I do nothing. Because nothing works anyways. And I felt like total crap that I have to treat Gevanni this way.

I don't know how else to tell him I'll never like him back.

_I'm going to lose my best friend. No._

"You seem way too zoned out today, is the High School socialism getting to you?" Gevanni flicked my cheek. My eyes widened back into reality.

"Ugh, apologies." I groaned, putting my forehead into my hand.

"Well... welcome to High School." Gevanni replied under his breath.

I was so abundantly zoned out, over thinking my emotions on the inside, while showing a complete zombie on the outside, I didn't even notice Gevanni and I started to enter Whammy.

I didn't even fully notice I was walking through the hallways.

I looked around, trying to ignore eyes. Some looked, some didn't.

I noticed some Junior or Sophomore-looking girl who started to squeal to her friend, "Oh my god, Kiyomi, look that freshman! He's so cute and short!"

"Misa likes a freshman!" Kiyomi started to nudge the group of friends chatting behind them.

"Oh, be quiet, slut, my heart belongs to _Light_!"

Oh, _god_. I started to shuffle faster.

I shook. I shivered. My breathing went a bit heavy. Gevanni noticed, and placed his hand on my back, leading me through crowds of socializing students, and sporty smart looking jocks, that scared me.

I started to notice similar things in the hall.

It was the same bullshit as last year. From a fancy school like this? I should've known. This was New York City.

I thought that everyone would be me more matured in high school.

I was wrong. People still threw trash around, people still carelessly made out, people still sat on the dirty floor like a hobo chatting it up because they were too lazy and tired to stand, oh, and of course those annoying cliques of cheerleaders you'd see in movies.

You'd think that movies only make them look dumb, but nope, it's true.

This was sickening. People were more hornier, scarier, more annoying, and weren't matured at all. Typical. Same crap, just double the kids. Which means more annoying. I shook again, Gevanni feels my rush, and starts to pat my back.

"You're okay, you're fine, we're fine, we'll get through the first day," he soothed into my ear. I felt the tension slowly release from my body.

I sighed and cursed myself that I even excepted more from this High School.

I was usually right about everything, but I guess I was finally wrong. How could I even think for a second the people would be better, more matured, more enhanced?

A rowdy group of jocks rushes to our direction, hustling around for something. Tension pounces back into me.

Oh, here's another similar trait from middle school. Last year, a bunch of popular guys would throw around a football, while racing for it down the hallway, until a teacher would actually call out and stop them.

Well, here they are again, struggling to obtain the pigskin.

"NEYLON, OVER HERE!" shouted one, running widely backwards towards us.

"ZAKK! HEADS UP, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!" shouted the one with the ball.

I felt Gevanni wince, and I look back to see what's wrong.

Gevanni's eyebrows knit in anger. So, I turned back around to see what exactly was pissing him off.

Before I can even acknowledge, the kid named Zakk, trying to cave in for the football, rams into me. Hard.

I almost fly backward, with my gaunt, and this kid's meaty muscly body, I was easily knocked over with just a tiny shove. Well, he crashed into me hard, but you get my point;

I could have been nudged by him, and simply met with the floor in an instant.

Gevanni caught me cautiously, before I actually flopped to the ground. Though the slam, made my nose numb, and my lip stung from the uppercut's vibrancy.

Instead of me going down, Zakk's back kisses the ground with a generous thump. I stand there shocked, almost tilting to the ground, Gevanni trying to hold me up from collapsing. My eyes were now wide, and breathing quite loud and deep from the hit.

"Oooh..." the group cooed. "Dude..."

"Wow, nice one fucker! You slammed into a freshman!"

Zakk turned around to me gingerly, and frowned with embarrassment, "'M Sorry, little dude, you okay?" he gets up off the ground.

Before I can answer, Gevanni gave the football player a tiny, but furious shove.

"Hey, watch where the fuck you're going next time, Irius!" Gevanni snapped.  
>"Whoaaaa there, no need to get violent, this was an accident." Zakk pressed.<p>

This guy Zakk probably knew Gevanni. I assume Gevanni and Zakk had the same classes. They weren't friends, Zakk knew him because Gevanni hated Zakk. He hated Zakk because he was popular.

That was one of Gevanni's personality traits. Being so used to popular people being full of themselves, and rude, Gevanni began to hate them. So if you were popular, Gevanni automatically hated you because he thought you were a total dick, or, bitch, if you were female.

"Whatever, be more careful next time, dick." Gevanni said aloof.

"Ooooh... Tough guyyy." the group hummed.

"Angermangament." Zakk mumbled, snickering to himself while at it. Gevanni heard this, but that's when I mouthed, "Just ignore him, let's go."

Gevanni's fists started to clench, but he decided to listen to me.

"Fucking hate him." he grumbled in a low voice.

"Look, I'm fine..." I tried, tugging onto the strand of Gevannis's backpack, as once Zakk left us, and the group of jocks cleared away further. My voice without a tone, and robotically unsteady.

"No, you're not fine, you're still shaking, and he's a douche."

"He's not such a douche." I groaned sympathetically.

"Yes. He is." he breathed, annoyed.

"Gevanni, everyone popular is a douche to you." I told him softly with a giggle caught in my throat.

"So? My point exactly." he waved it off. He pointed to the registration desk the front of the commons room, "Let's get our schedules so we can finally know where we're going this _fine_ morning."

That _fine_ was pure sarcasm.

At the table sat on old woman with crates of schedules, giving a girl her information. Since we were a bit late for the schedule pick up, there weren't many kids in line anymore, so I guess the other two secretaries took off.

Gevanni stood in front of me, "Watch me."

I don't have the heart to tell him it wasn't so hard for me to collect a piece of paper, but he loved thinking that he was always one step ahead of me, so I didn't want to ruin his fun.

"Okay." I gave him a thumbs up.

The two kids in front were taking longer than expected, so Gevanni looked at me over his shoulder,

"Do... you have your eye out on anybody?"

"Huh?"

"Are there any guys you like so far?" he asked.

Oh my god, I'm so confused. Not only is it random, but I never thought he'd ask me such a thing.

Let's just not get into this, I'm fine without reminding myself that Gevanni has a stupid crush on me.

"Nope." I popped my 'p.' to give my answerer more assuring pep.

"C'mon, you need a boyfriend, Rester's going on more business trips this year... Leaving you all alone. And you know I'm more busy this year, I can't hang out with you after school as much as I did last year."

My stomach twist with nerves when he reminded me about Rester's departure this year. He said he might be assigned to other offices for the week around the country. I was scared. I didn't want him to leave me. He said he'd fly back on the weekends and holidays, but then it was back to business trips.

He's just not sure yet.

"Well, that'snotforsure." I said finally, rushing the striking pain out of my mouth. It was hard for me to accept the fact that I would wake up and take my Zoloft all alone. We did everything together. He can't leave me now.

"Well, what if? You got to get someone else to love and care for you. You should... finally just get a crush." I swear I just heard him almost choke.

But he was right. What if? Something knotted it my chest, bitter, and sad. Rester had a great chance to leave me alone for some great time. I did need a boyfriend.

"Look," Gevanni gazed around, "Uh... there's a cute looking red head over there." he pointed to two guys talking down the hallway.

There was a guy with long blonde hair facing the red headed kid. I couldn't see the blonde's face at all, though, only the back of his head was facing me. But I'm not going to lie, judging by his body, that was a great body.

The kid Gevanni wanted me to check out was barely in my view due to the blonde, so I stood on my tip toes to actually catch a good look at him.

Holy shit, I thought Gevanni meant that the kid was going to have naturally red hair, but the kid had actual _red_ hair. _Rose, _red_. _Or_ firetruck _red.

To me, he wasn't that cute at all. He's wearing these odd orange shades, has a long nose, looks like he hasn't showered in a few days.

"No, he's not that attractive to me." I commented briefly, "Do you know that long blonde haired boy, though? He looks pretty cute from the back."

"No. Not him. You don't want him." Gevanni's voice had a strange bitter edge.

"Why?" So he did know him?

"You just _don't_." his voice sharpened.

"What? Do you have a crush on him or something?" I snickered.

"Ew! _Fuck_ _no_!" Gevanni spit. His eyes showed true disgust.

"O-Okay." I'm not going to fight with him on this. He knows this school better than me, after all.

"You can have anyone you want, Nate, just not _HIM_." Gevanni turned away.

Then the thought pulsed through me for a second, pricking me with longing.

I did want a boyfriend. I just haven't found anyone I liked yet.

Funny how when you want something, so

After two more kids, Gevanni and I finally got up to the front of the line.

"Name?" the lady slurs.

"Stephen Gevanni, ma'am." she nodded once, and shuffled through a few plaleblue colored folders and gave him his schedule.

"Don't lose it." she said to him. I stepped up.

"Name?" she asked me, monotonously.

"Nathanial River." I almost groaned. Rester registered me with my stupid full name so it was on every school document and school letter I had, and I also have to use it for any registration matters.

Want to sign up for a club? Nathanial River.

Want to compete in a sport? Nathanial River.

Year Book? Nathanial River

Attendance on the first day? Do we have a Nathanial River?

_Please call me Nate._

I hated my full name with all my heart, but everyone thought it was _beautiful_.

Ugh.

"Here you go." I'm handed a manilla colored paper, labeled _freshman_ on the top seal.

"Thanks..." I whirled over to Gevanni, "Soooo?" I balanced my weight from heel to toe.

"I have, Art, French, Geometry B, History, Calc, and Advanced Biology ." he shrugged, sighing.

I looked over mine, and processed it.

"I have Art, French, Physics, Honors English, Pre Calc, and Orchestra and so we have... both of our elective classes together!" I piped up, my face contorted into a glad, snug smile. All grades get to be mixed into the elective classes, so this was such luck that Gevanni got placed into mine.

"Lunch hour? I have Section A." he told me, biting his lip hopefully.

"Section C..." I sighed. I was probably going to end up alone at a lunch table, awkwardly sitting there, doing nothing. Barely eating. Drinking some sports drink. Wasting space.

Plus, both our lockers were apart. I was on floor two, Gevanni was on the first floor.

What a drag.

The principal's voice came over the P.A. Speaker. The whole school suddenly shuts up, and stares at the ceiling.

"Students, this is a ten minute warning that classes will begin soon. The five minute bell will ring after, the final bell shall ring at eight, afterward, and you should all be expected to be at your classes. Thank you."

A cooed of 'Oh Shit!'s and 'Ugh, lets go's were followed after.

I needed more time as well.

"Gevanni," I tugged on his sleeve, "I really wanted to check out my locker, to see if I'm good with the combination and all... So I'll meet you in art."

I was panicking inside.

I didn't have enough time to do anything. Memorize my classrooms, the staircases I needed to climb to get there, the hallways I needed to cross, open my locker, memorize my locker's number and wing.

"Okay, just remember, it's that room down there," he pointed to the biggest open door down the left. It stained with paint, a Van Gogh poster hanging off the bottom.

"Okay, thanks," I nodded, determined, and headed upstairs.

I found my locker wing easily, I saw few kids from last year crowding a wing with the last names that had all started with R as well.

Locker 291. Found it.

Combination, 1-26-10. Pretty easy.

I swirl the nob around, and try it.

Crap. It didn't open.

_Remember, you fully turn the nob after the first number, THEN, goes your second. _I yelled at myself.

Then the five minute bell rings, and kids start to scatter everywhere, until the wing is empty but about five kids, mumbling around to each other.

"C'mon, we gotta go,"

"Dude, over here!"

"Shit... I don't remember where my first period is..."

"Is this our wing?"

"Yeah, um... let's go!"

Voices all round, called, as I stood there awkwardly picking at the nob, alone, trying out the comb for the last time.

After about five minutes it opened, and I stared into its emptiness.

There was a few skeletons of left withering tape.

It sounded, and felt lonely, dark.

Everything about it reminded me, of me.

Because outside, it was a locker, but inside it was basked empty.

Like it; outside, I was a human, but inside, I was empty.

_Zombies, are a myth, you, are the living dead._

I slammed it it in, as the emptiness, and sadness clogs up in the pit of my stomach.

As I started to walk to art, it builds up, more and more.

Because I see something. Something that depressed me, more than anything. Depressed me with longing.

A couple stood against the wall, kissing. They looked really happy together. I stared, not blinking. The girl looked familiar, she had the same hair-do as the girl who said I was cute earlier this morning. Probably was here, but I can't seem to remember completely.

I couldn't decide if it made me sick, or happy for them.

They break away, and the boy tells her,

"Bye, have fun in Math." he said. The girl's face lit up like the Fourth of July.

"Bye, I will, I love you so, so much, Light!" she let go of his hand and skipped to class, her face gleaming with pure happiness, and a hopeful smile crossing his face, watching her happily stride to her classroom.

The clogging of the depression, and the loneliness, reverses a flush up my throat, I try to gulp the depression down, but it stayed, consumed in my heart, and in my stomach, still tasting desperately in my mouth.

I wanted someone special.

I wanted someone to tell me they loved me.

I wanted my face to light up, brightly.

I wanted someone to kiss my face, and my lips.

But. I could have had someone special. I could've.

I had no one, because I was a picky, stupid, lonely, ignorant, selfish, empty bastard, who denied a relationship with almost everyone who had liked me.

I was confused with myself, cursing my ignorance under my breath.

Why was I so stupid? And why can't I figure out why I do it?

If I want someone so badly, Why didn't I like anyone? Why didn't I invest in liking anyone, when I needed it?

I'm confused. Why am I doing this to myself?

My life, it needs someone. It's still uneven. It will always be uneven. And things are going to get worse. Rester will be gone. No matter how much I wanted to deny it.

I want someone.


	3. Chapter 3: Unrequited

**TW: **Graphic self-harm.

I don't own Death Note. ヽ(；▽；)ノ

* * *

><p>Finally, it was the end of Thursday, I stood at my locker, loading textbooks into my backpack, glancing around for the boy I fell deeply in love with on the first day of school. I always did this. He should be around here at this time of day especially. This was the floor his locker was on.<p>

No luck.

I sighed.

Of course. I can never find him.

He's gone.

Maybe I've become schizophrenic, and he was only a fragment of my fucked up imagination.

But, I'm still a Hindu Cow, even though I could be kicking in my locker, banging on its metal cranking surface and screaming a loud, wrenching_ "Where the fuck are you?!"_

But I'm not. I choose to try to stay calm about the fact.

I mean, tomorrow's Friday.

Yes, tomorrow's Friday, which is great, and Coach canceled Basketball practice today because he felt sick and moved it to Sunday morning, which left me with piano today.

Piano. Piano. Piano. Two hours of sitting and playing at home.

I loved piano, probably more than anything I actually do.

I had a personal teacher since I was in third grade. I've never attended the learning studios they had in Manhattan.

I've just always had her since I started playing. There were a few rough patches, of course, so we had to take a brake from lessons every week, but I've been playing all my grade school life, half my middle school, and now I'm starting again.

I was happy to see her, smile eager to teach my fingers to wildly run across the keys, creating beautiful melodies.

Well, I haven't written one yet, we're getting there, but for now, I've only played others' pieces.

This month we're going for the full Moonlight Sonata.

I keep messing up on bits in the middle, but I'm sure I'll actually get it right, someday.

Her name was Marlene. She had paprika colored hair, that came down just a little over her jaw, that sparked gray between the strands due to middle age. Her husband recently died, so she's been overworked, the only thing she could do was work, play piano, and work, to forget the pain. Working us to the bone, to forget our pain. She wanted me to succeed, _attack it_.

__"Better! Better! No! Don't hold it! Quickly! Let go! Attack it! Attack it! Feel it! Better! Better! You're almost there! You almost go it! Start the part over, practice it three more time! You're almost there, Succeed the song, Overpower it with your fingers, Show you can catch up to it's melody! Attack it!"__

I practiced Moonlight Sonata every single day to about nine.

I didn't get it completely right, but not too wrong, if that makes any sense; but I can say it was better than the last time we practiced it. Hopefully she'll be impressed today.

That I've improved, gotten better, faster at a Beethoven piece.

"Bye Mish!" Mail's voice piped in my direction, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I turned around, closed my locker, and hurled my backpack over my shoulder, "Mail!"

I haven't hung out with Mail at all either. We we're both too occupied. Me getting flustered with popular friends, homework, and sports and he was, well, I don't know. He seemed depressed. Not clinically, but you know, droopy. Other times, he was actually pretty happy and full of pep, as usual, so I didn't let the idea get to me and over-worry me.

He faced me, walking backwards, as fast as he could.

"Yeah, bro?"

"What's the rush?" I asked him, "Come home with me or something, we haven't seriously hung out since July..." I tried to do a friendly giggle to the sentence.

"Sorry, Mish, I'm so busy, I have so much homework and my shift at Game Stop at seven, tomorrow I'm working at that stupid fucking Soup place and then Game Stop again on Saturday... and Mom's never home anymore... so I can't get permission to do anything right now, I have to get home." his voice cracked once he came to 'Mom's never home anymore'

That's right. Mail's lonely. Not only does he have shit loads of homework, and two lengthy jobs at the Bay Plaza Mall in Bronx with sloped shifts, he's lonely because his mom is a children's nurse in the emergency room. She's always there. She barely comes home to see her only son. So Mail made all three courses of food for himself, (course they weren't healthy, they're usually microwaved pizzas or ordered Chinese) and watched family movies alone. I remember when I would've killed to be him last year, to have so much freedom, so much alone time. I wanted to get away from Halle and Rod, that badly. But I was wrong. He got lonely eventually, mother at work, father nowhere to be seen.

Mail didn't have a father. He left once Mail was born.

And right now, he had no friends to be with him. I wanted to hang out with my best friend as much as possible, but he couldn't have anyone over now since he had no permission anymore.

I should be there for him, but everything is stopping me.

"Oh, you lonely? I mean, I can call you... or something." I offered.

"...Yeah... Yeah... sure! I'd love that." he shot a huge, approving smile at me.

"Alright, cool."

"Okay, I got to go catch my bus before it leaves, I have like two minutes left, I'll talk to you later!" he turned back around, gesturing his hand up into a wave, and paced faster toward the bus wing.

I laughed. "Alright, bye, Mail."

I started to walk toward the pick-up exit, where Halle would usually get me. I already called her and told her about today's canceled Basketball practice, so she was on her way.

I was relieved. The hallway I walked in, was cleared. Everyone was either already outside, in the common room for sports and study hall, on the bus, or subway.

I had the whole hallway to myself, except for two quiet boys, picking their locker open, and placing binders and books into their bags. It was nice like this. None of my popular friends around me to fuck up my peaceful stroll.

I looked out the big windows.

I loved the weather they displayed.

I was mellowing to its glow. Coming less tense, and reborn every second I spent just, looking at it.

It was so sunny, the sky was blue, It actually made me smile. My heart warmed from the sunny glowing rays, sending up my muscles to actually pull out a wide, hearty smile on my face. I feel the suns rays around me, warmly radiating my skin in soft aurora. They gleamed with the light yellow beauty, emitting from the school's large glass windows, painting a mix in the baby blue clear sky. As I walked toward the exit way, they shun on me, like a spotlight. The autumn's left heat crept around the big picture windows, warming me up in my sweatshirt, and around my legs.

I liked this feeling. It was so cozy. It never got too hot with October's slight heat.

Hindu cows, and big, wide, stoned looking smiles.

Yeah.

There were a bunch of kids who scattered over the main exit.

My happy, warm feeling was instantly gone. Too much crowded people, who would all probably stop and say hi to me. I didn't want to go through all them, slowly taking in the salutations, I really didn't need to collect. I didn't want to fake anymore laughs or smiles.

I've already done that thousands of times today.

Since I decided not to push through all of them, I knew I had to take the back door exit to come out into the parking lot. The back door was in the branch of the music hallway on the first floor.

It's usually where all the band or orchestra students keep their instruments, and took their path to rehearsal rooms.

I personally knew today from Mail's music schedule; there was usually no practice after school today, so I was free to wander off into the corridor without disturbing the music students and teachers. The doors were pried open, and the windows around the corner in the beginning of the hallway, took in the heat. It felt so warm around my skin, and I regained my happy, as if I was solar charged.

I walked right in, and yawned from the drowsy, warm skimming feeling.

__I need some music. __My brain thought.

I stopped and took out my iPod out of the smallest pocket of my bag.

I grinned, flipping my thumb through my albums, eager to tune into some Korn or something along those genre lines until Halle gets here; because when you're in her car, you have to listen to her shitty pop music, and it's so loud that you can't hear your own music blasting as loud as possible from your earphones.

Everything felt in it's place. It was like Karma actually worked for me today. Me, working so hard each week of September and first few weeks of October, to make up for last year's hassle.

I think Karma gave me a day off.

I press play and I mouth to the lyrics. Hell, I even start to bang my head. It's not like anyone could see me or anything.

_You want to sleep with him to get to who you need to know!  
>Think that's the way to go don't you?<br>Its in religion, sex, and everything we do and say,  
>I look the other way, won't you?<em>

OUT OF POWER.

"Shit!" I groaned.

Just when I thought everything was going perfectly smooth.

I breathed out, annoyed, and started to put the dead iPod back into my jean pocket.

I suddenly stopped pushing the electronic in halfway.

My ears started to hear a faint, beautiful, and wildly familiar sound. It was that pretty to instantly freeze to, and I couldn't help but to stand, clueless, trying to figure out what it was.

I already knew it was a piano, but what is that song?

I knew that song, I knew it.

I _knew_ it.

I was clenched in agitation, struggling to remember the song playing.

Since I played piano, I could hear the notes right in my head, I recognized it, but I couldn't name it. Why couldn't I name it? It sounded like I knew it more than any piece, though I was silent in my head, not coming up with the answer.

My limbs and my brain were frozen, my thoughts all over the place.

__What is that? I know it! It's beautiful! And it's played perfect... Completely perfect...__

I slowly came closer to the sound to hear it more thoroughly.

It was coming from the third to last room, on the right side of the hallway. I slowly walked over, and looked into the door.

Right away, my heart stopped. Dead stopped.

My cheeks tinted crimson.

I felt it, once more.

Love. Was it love?

My heart started to regain movement, and began to beat faster and faster, just watching. Like a horse that started to gallop in a race.

Faster. Faster. Faster. Faster. Faster. Faster. Faster.

My eyes open wide, stared through the glass window mounded on the door to the Orchestra Room.

He played piano.

It was him.

Him.

__Him__.

Finally, I see him.

My heart was about to burst.

I was about die. It was going too fast.

Way too fast. I have never had my heart go this fucking fast.

It had to be going one billion miles per hour.

I was going to die.

But. I was going to die happy; __It's____him__. My ears rang.

The beautiful boy sat and played on the school's black piano. He was more beautiful than his skills playing Moonlight Sonata.

__Wait__.

That was it. Moonlight Sonata.

How could I have been so fucking _stupid_?

I finally recognized it, it was down at the middle of it, the one that I've been trying to get so far with Marlene. He was perfect at it. Perfect at __attacking __it.

Everything was done completely _perfect_. The part I struggled at, his beautiful fingers strode perfectly across the keys, his melody, while his beautiful straight back was pushed brilliantly out in perfect posture.

He was so petite, it made him even cuter. Cute small legs, torso and arms.

I want him. I want him so bad. More than anything.

And he played piano.

He is probably the most perfect thing ever assembled, created.

And he doesn't even know I exist.

Everyone. Everyone here knew I existed here.

Except him. The only one I wanted to know I exist.

I watched him, my stomach filling up with fast fluttering butterflies, and my air ways scrunching a infatuated feeling I couldn't describe.

This time, I finally got a better look at him.

The best look.

The best, perfect, perfect look.

That one word sung repeatedly through my head, to the beat of my disquiet heart.

It wouldn't calm down.

__Perfect, Perfect, Perfect.__

He had his eyes closed, so I wasn't scared that he'd notice see me staring at his beauty. I wasn't scared risking my paused, long, glance.

Sure, he could open his eyes any minute, but if they were open in general, he could have easily noticed.

He was so good. I couldn't even blink at this part. But he. This perfect boy, had his eyes closed the whole time to this, playing without a single mistake.

__Perfect, Perfect, Perfect.__

His white snow hair, that gleamed under the sunlight, looked like he had golden strands within his roots.

His pale skin looked so soft and delicate, gleaming smoothly. I saw his nose perfectly this time, his profile view faced me in great quality.

He had a small slope nose, and really silk smooth looking, cute lips.

I stared at them for a while, then back to his softly closed eyelids.

I wanted to kiss them forever.

Yes. There isn't any doubt anymore; I don't think I've ever seen someone as beautiful as this.

He really was the most perfect, beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life.

I was breathless.

As I saw the footsteps of men's dress shoes, (most likely the Orchestra Teacher,) trail up from behind him, and place a hand on his shoulder, my stomach pounced with jerking, horrified nerves.

He wasn't alone.

__Oh, shit.__

The gorgeous boy opened his big, pretty, gray eyes, and stopped moving his delicate fingers across the keys. As he lifted them, the keys tingled with a beautiful, fading aftermath.

I didn't want to stop observing every inch of him, but I instantly looked away, horrified, once the teacher had stopped him.

I started to walk as fast as I could, hoping none of them had saw me awkwardly standing there, admiring him.

A text from Halle buzzed at a coincidentally at the right exact time.

_I'm here._

Once I saw the back door, I ran, pushed it open, and got into Halle's Lexus.

"Hey, how was school?" she asked with pep, as I skid into the car's clammy conditioned atmosphere, panting, catching my breath.

I tried my best to not die from my heart overreacting. I tried my best for my chest not to explode, though any minute now, I thought it'd pop, from my heart bursting out at the seam.

I didn't reply. I was still speechless, still unevenly breathing.

"Mihael, what's wrong? You're all red..." her tone transformed into worry.

I breathed some more, trying to get my lungs back to normal, like they were scattered puzzle pieces. The ones I couldn't find easily.

__He makes me feel things.__

__Things I haven't ever felt before.__

"Uh...? Uh...Uh-huh..." was the only thing I could say.

Halle rolled her eyes, "Okay then," she giggled, starting to drive forward towards the parking lot exit.

– –

I got home and for the rest of the day, and again, all I could think about was him. Everything was about him, again.

Not knowing who he was, was eating me alive.

I called Mail.

"Hey Mish." he picked up the phone in about five rings.

"I'm in love." I blurted the moment the words left his lips.

"Whoa, whoa, what?" I heard a virtual car crash in the background, then a loud controller thwack against his glass coffee table. He was either playing the new Fast and Furious, or Grand Theft Auto.

"Okay, I paused the game," he mumbled away from the line, then moved his breath back to the phone, "... What? Did you just say, you were in love?"

"Yup." I jittered, tapping my fingers wildly against my thighs.

"You're joking... Did you just come to this conclusion? With who?" he sounded a bit serious.

"I guess... and I don't know..." was the only thing I could really process out of my mouth.

"What...? You don't know? How could you not know __who __you're in love with?" his serious tone turned into an impatient one.

"I said, I don't know! That's why I called you!" I said, rubbing my tired forehead with my left palm.

"Wait, what do you need me for, I don't get it?"

"Because I was thinking maybe you know who he is...h––"

"––WHOA, __HE__?"

I literally almost smacked myself in the face.

I forgot, boys weren't supposed to like boys in this world.

"Look, this was a bad idea," I tried to hang up, but he spoke up before I can even trail my thumb to the button.

"No! No! Wait... It's cool dude, It was just unexpected that it was a boy... I mean I know one-hundred percent you're not gay or bisexual, right? …You told me you're asexual."

"Yeah... I don't really know how it happened, but I guess I'm attracted to only him and no one else... I know I'm not gay... or anything like that..." I tried.

"Hmm, so you don't know who this guy is? But you're in love with him? Must be love at first sight then, huh Mish?" he giggled.

At least he was understanding. Even though Mail was the straightest guy alive, he still accepted my same-sex crush.

I was happy everything was going smoothly now.

"Uh... yeah... probably..." I sighed into the phone.

"How does he look like? Maybe I do know who he is!" I could hear the microwave beeping and Mail rustling something open in the background. Probably Doritos.

"Um... well, beautiful..." I started off with a blushing laugh, then continued, "Um.. well to start off, he's freakishly short, a slope nose, gray eyes, he has white hair..." I tried. Mail mumbled the features to himself.

"Hmm... short... white hair... gray eyes..." he thought.

"Anything?" I sighed again.

Mail crunched on a Dorito, "Hmm," he hummed between chews, "I... I don't think so... I've never seen anyone with _white_ hair."

"It's a bummer you don't know..." I sighed.

"Wait. Wait." he suddenly goes.

My pulse raised back up gain. "Dude, does he look like a really quiet, closed off person?"

"Yeah!"

"I've seen him in the hallway on the first day of school, actually. He accidentally got hit with a football that was getting thrown by Zakk and Neylon. Now I remember!"

My fists clench, "Fucking Zakk and Neylon, I'll kill them." I roll my eyes.

The thought of him getting shoved and hurt just angered me.

"Sorry man... Hey, but if I see him, I'll ask him for his name, okay? Then I'll let you know... He's not in my lunch hour, so this can be pretty complicated, but whatever, I'll do it." I felt him shrug, as he crunched on his snacks.

"Okay, thanks man, you can get back to your game now, I'll start some homework," I laughed, a bit disappointed. There was no way Mail is going to even remember what he promised me tomorrow, (he has a memory of a chicken) so, I had no hope left in him finding out who my crush actually was.

"Cool, See ya, Mish!" the line went dead, and I unzipped my backpack to get out my textbooks.

I had two more hours until piano, and I was determined, inspired, to finally get Moonlight Sonata right, get it perfect.

Maybe even better than him.

I had to beat him. I needed to be number 1 in this. Yeah, then maybe he'll notice me somehow.

The next morning, I walked bummed, my arms hanging lifeless from my glum mood, my legs, tired jello.

I couldn't get it right. I couldn't. I actually did worse than usually when in front of Marlene, and Marlene became steamy and impatient with me messing almost every key up.

I was too distracted. Thinking of him, my chest aching, trying, longing to beat him at the game.

But I couldn't. The more I thought about him, and beating him at the Moonlight Sonata, the more I messed up, the more I got it wrong and had to start over, and getting nowhere further.

I couldn't beat him. I couldn't get anything even slightly right.

He made my angry, being so perfect.

He made me worthless. He destroys me.

He's my kryptonite.

No one could win my heart, but he won it.

No one could get into my mind so badly, that it destroyed me, crumbles me more up than I already had crumbled.

No one could make me this happy, this lost, this angry.

No one could play me.

But he did.

He controlled me. I was his puppet desperate for his playtime, that he didn't give me. I get it now, why people wanted something more and more if they didn't get it.

He was driving me insane. He was playing me all over.

And he didn't even know it.

He had no idea that he controlled the 'most popular,' 'most wanted,' 'most sporty,'most handsomest' kid in the school.

And it made me fucking _angry_.

__Why do you have to be so perfect? __Lingered on and on in my head, me, screaming at him.

When Halle gave me my pill today, I threw it in the bamboo plant that sat on the window near the kitchen table, when she wasn't looking.

It landed around the corner of the bamboo's large green stump, sinking into the soil, as if I had planted the pill in.

And it felt so good.

Though; my thoughts and emotions were, of course, out of control, and reach, dangling and being played with on a tight string that hung off my puppet, owned by the beautiful, snowy haired boy.

One moment, I'd be thinking of how it angered me that he destroys me, makes me weak, how he controlled me, when no one else does, how much I hated that stupid fact.

The other moment, was how I'd dream about him. How much I loved him. How perfect he was. How much I wanted him to be all mine and no one else's.

How much I wanted to be with him. Forever.

I started to daydream.

Once I thought of the word, __Forever; __I thought of marriage.

Married to the most perfect person alive. My heart fluttered. _Yes_.

It processed in my head, and I see me and him. I was standing on one knee, holding his delicate hand, like it was a fragile gem, balancing it perfectly in mine, and feeling every inch of his irresistible pale skin.

__Will you marry me? Will you be my husband?__

I ask him, and I planted a small kiss on palm, a shiny frame of my lips engraving onto the pretty, radiant pale skin.

I have never heard his voice before.

Not once.

And I was dying to hear it.

So, when he said 'Yes' to my proposal. No voice had came out.

It was just a mouthed answer coming out of his perfect lips.

Inching silence.

Nothing more.

I needed to hear his voice, badly to continue my fantasies.

After he had mouthed his answer, I passionately kiss him, strong, willing, committed. Showing him, that I was never going to leave him.

Then another thought about how much I hated being controlled by him, and unloved by him.

He didn't even know it. He didn't even know I exist.

I mean, it's even more kinkier when he would know it and take advantage of it (We could have honestly been in the Janitor's closet at this very moment fucking) But __this__?

This had to stop. We had to meet.

We had to.

Or else, I'll die alone. There's no one else in this world that I would want.

__Oh, shit.__

I stop in my tracks.

__Meet.__

__Meet the prettiest person alive?__

But. I'm scared. I've never been scared of meeting anyone before, I'm usually fucking confident. Brave. Friendly, and cunning.

But.

Fuck! There he goes! Controlling me again!

__ARGH!__

I tune back into my sex drive with him. Linking my arms around his neck, pressing my lips everywhere perfect.

Yup.

__This was the plan, after he'd say yes to my marriage proposal.__

I concluded, walking towards my locker, thinking of ways I could bite his lip, for him to be more turned-on.

Then, when I drop back to reality, I really think about this. How special I would actually feel, and how important it would be to me, to make him turned on.

What if I could turn on and kiss a boy like that? Make him feel good? Happy?

That would be special. Right?

Very.

I'd feel so great if I made that boy happy. The greatest.

For once, I really wasn't thinking about myself. It never really was about myself, was it? Yes.

That's right.

From the moment I saw him, I wanted to make him happy.

That's the only thing that matters.

"Hey Mish!" Mail's voice rings through my thoughts once more.

This is unusual. Why isn't he at his locker, getting his shit? Why is he leaning on mine, waiting for me?

He chewed on a cherry blowpop, his holding a red Gameboy.

He waved cheerily at me. I laughed, he was wearing his favorite shirt of all time.

The black, red cuffed sleeved, print shirt, angry, sly faced My Little Ponies raising their taunting, violent hooves across the chest.

White bubble capitols, spelling out PWNIES, outlined silver and red.

He loved that shirt more than anything in the world. He'd probably give up his first born child to keep that shirt if there had been a choice.

Then the wild, exciting conclusion came to me.

Mail standing at my locker, plus, him promising to find out who the boy was, plus him looking happier than usual, equals, great news for me and quest fulfilled for Mail.

I ran up to him with pure joy.

"DID YOU FIND OUT, DID YOU FIND OUT?" I took a tight grip on his shoulders and shook him at light speed.

Mail almost dropped his Gameboy, which is basically impossible for Mail. He had his grip dead tight on his hand-helds when in the middle of a game, so this pretty much meant I was going ape-shit.

I'm __that __excited.

Plus, I had a mocha this morning.

And no pill.

This could be a problem.

I stopped shaking him once I realized my maniac-coffee-buzzed-excited-bipolar shaking could've given him brain damage.

"Find out what?" Mail's eyes grew big and clueless.

My mood instantly spirals down.

I should have fucking known.

Memory of a chicken.

"Oh shit, was I supposed to do something?"

I sighed.

"Just forget about it..." I groaned, completely grim, pushing him out of the way from my locker's nob.

"No, seriously..." Mail frowned, "What's going on?"

"Well, I thought you had something important to tell me, you're in front of my locker..." I cracked it open and started rustle around for my German binder.

"Oh... I was in front of your locker because I was going to ask to copy your German homework... I completely forgot about it, I was just __ON FUCKING FIRE __in Fast and Furious, yesterday." Mail grinned at me, diabolically.

_Memory of a chicken._

I sighed again, and got the paper out of my homework folder.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, here." I handed it to him.

He takes a hold of it, and focuses on me in thought, "Dude, seriously, what's wrong? Why so down today?"

"Sorry... I just thought that you figured out who... __he__... was." I stuffed the folder back into my binder, trying to keep my voice almost to a whisper.

It took a long minute for Mail's head to process my hint, and his face softens from a rough, scrunched confused one, indicating the fact a light bulb lit up somewhere in his dark cellar of a mind.

"Oh! Shit, dude, I'm sorry, I forgot I was supposed even to do that..." he told me, frowning in embarrassment.

"No, it's fine... I didn't take my medication today... so I'm a little out of it... sorry I expected this much." I told him.

"Aw, c'mon, Mish, you know you have to take it no matter how much you hate that shitty stuff..." he groaned sympathetically.

I just blinked, and shut my locker at his remark.

Somehow, I was slightly annoyed.

"Hey, I know!" he gave me a lifting smack on the bicep, "Why don't we give him a nickname, you know, for the time being we don't know what his actual name is? How 'bout it?"

That didn't sound too bad.

Actually, that didn't sound bad at all.

"Hey... that's not a bad idea... What're you going for?" I asked.

"Well, you know when you look at someone you don't know, and you just go like, hey, they look like a 'Susan' or a 'Bob' or a 'Mark,' y'know? That's what I think we should do. Name him something that he would look like." he shrugged in idea.

"Yeah, yeah, I get what you're goin' for... Throw some at me!"

Mail leaned back onto my locker, in thought, and I stared at his eyes wandering around through his orange lenses, thinking. Yes, it was a bit wrong for Mail to do all the work for me, considering I have seen him twice and Mail just a glimpse, but my head couldn't work with names well.

My mind was too twisted today to process anything else.

Mail should come up with something decent and cool.

Me on the other hand, wouldn't have anything creative or abstract for my crush.

If I actually thought of names, I'd think of the most mundane name yet- Bob and Pete, or something like that.

Which didn't match him at all.

When something I thought of, did match him, it was either 'perfect' or 'beautiful.'

Just descriptive words. No names.

Well, Maybe they could be.

Never mind, no one names their kid that, unless they're on serious crack.

"Sam," Mail piped up his first idea.

Didn't seem like it to me, so I go: "Nah."

"Johnny?"

"Nah."

"Jared."

"Nope."

"Mikey."

"What? No."

"Peter."

"Nuh-uh."

"Jake?"

"Too douche-y."

"Kellen!"

"Think harder, Jeevas."

"Travis...?"

"Hell no."

"Mohamed?"

I guffawed so hard that I started snorting. "What the fuck? How did we get from 'Jake' to 'Mohamed'?"

"You know, because, Mohamed is like, the most common male name in the world, read the fucking statistics," Mail pressed, shrugging innocently.

"Well, there's no way in hell that I'm calling him Mohamed." I laughed, wiping a happy tear away from my lid.

Mail punches my stomach in playful anger.

"Fine, YOU try to think of something." he humphed.

"My mind is blank..." I pressed my lips together.

"Why don't we start SLOW?" Mail mocked, as if he was talking to a two year old, "Like pet names..." he added.

"Okay," I try, "How about... Dollface?"

Mail snorted so loud, it could have been mistaken for a ruckus of mucus. "No! That's so cheesy! Dude, that's worse than Mohamed!" he laughed.

I sigh. "I don't know! …Honeybunches?"

"He's not a fucking cereal." Mail said as we began to walk forward to German.

"How about... Snow? You know... 'cos his hair is snowy white?"

"No... dude... he just sounds like a Disney Princess now, _you_ suck at this."

"I know... Should I just call him 'baby'?" I asked, feebly.

"Wait–– I have an idea. How about Prince Charming? Since you love the kid so much, y'know, he's your Prince... that one quote, 'everyone has their Prince Charming'?

Well, it was better than anything I could come up with.

He was a Prince Charming. Not the tan, handsome, muscular, heroic one, though.

Just charming. And prince like.

Just the soft, squishy, small kind.

I guess.

I really need to take my pill.

"Deal." I nod.

Prince Charming.

Who would've guessed?

The bell finally rings off today.

Another dull, boring, tiring day. Fuck.

It's rainy out today, and I fucking hated it. It was so glum.

Nothing like when I saw my Prince Charming.

No sunny rays, warm temperature, or baby blue, clear skies.

Just ugly gray, a bit frosty, and a drizzle of rain.

I didn't see him today. I actually wasn't at all surprised.

He was so rare to find. I sighed as I got to my locker, passing a few popular guys who said their hellos.

"Yo, Mihael." they gave me a nod as they walked by.

"Hey guys." I told them, drastically tired.

I open my locker, and just start to think and think and think.

About who?

Well, Prince Charming of course.

I was so tired, that I started to wish that when I came home, he would snuggling in my bed, waiting for me to crawl in, hold and kiss him all over, until we would both fall asleep in each other's arms.

I wish I had that. If I was his boyfriend, and he got this tired, I would've carried him home, and tucked him in bed, then got in myself, and kiss him until he was so drowsy he'd fall asleep. Then I'd watch him sleep. How he'd look like, just silently asleep, breathing cute light snores in and out, his pretty snow hair laying perfectly against his pillow as I stroke it, and lids beautifully dropped closed.

"DUDE! DUDE! DUDE!" I'm snapped out of fantasizing about my prince, by a familiar voice that made my adrenaline rise.

No.

Here comes Light stupid Yagami.

Oh, _goody_.

I shut my locker as quickly as I could, lugging my heavy backpack's strand around my wrist, and try to run away, pretending I didn't hear him.

Shit.

Light tackled me from behind, trying to ride onto my back.

"Get the fuck off! I'm not giving you a fucking piggy back ride!" I try my hardest shake him off me, as he tries to place his left leg around my hip.

"C'mon, C'mon, C'mon, Do eet!" he whines. I dropped my backpack with a loud thud from the uncontrollable maneuver. My wrist stung from the burn the strand had tugged.

"No––Light—Get the fuck off!" he struggles pushing all his weight onto my back, trying to find a comfortable position to saddle on me.

I groaned to myself and rolled my eyes wide from annoyance.

Fuck.

I shoved him off me, ignoring the circumstances of him cracking his head open on the floor.

I actually prayed for this as he was drifting closer to the floor.

__Crack your head, Crack your head, Crack your stupid head.__

He fell on his butt, and laughed.

"Hahahahaha! Dude! You so woke up on the wrong side of the bed!"

God, Why are you so oblivious and optimistic?

I really don't like you. How do you NOT get that?

"Whatever. What are you gonna tell me?" I said, the most bored, mundane tone striking through my voice.

"How did you know I have news for you? Did you hear?" his face transformed to a clueless look, mouth agape in a questionable oval.

"Well, whenever you run at me, screaming, 'Dude, Dude, Dude,' I reckon you have something to tell me." I rolled my eyes.

Light's face softened into a smile, as he got up and dusted off the dirt on his jeans.

"So what __is __it?" I said in a 'I don't actually care' tone.

I was trying to give him a hint by picking at an imaginary piece of lint on my shirt. Though, he doesn't see and I silently sigh in agonized failure to myself.

"Misa asked me to be her boyfriend!" he sang, slinging his arm around me.

They weren't already dating? Seriously? Ugh.

"That's cool." I shrugged, trying to nudge his arm off of me.

I don't want him to touch me.

"Yup! I'm a boyfriend!" he gleamed.

Congratulations.

You're in a High School relationship. What you got out of this; I don't know.

Honestly, what I mean by this isn't a High School sweetheart relationship. I mean one of those honeymoon stages a couple has for about two weeks, and then break up because they're sick of each other.

But honestly, this is Misa Amane we're talking about here. Chances are she already wants to marry Light.

And this is also Light we're talking about here. This means he wants the relationship he has with Misa to last five days tops.

Both are in a sticky situation, huh?

"Nice." I commented.

I thought of my prince when he said the word 'boyfriend', staring blankly at my black laces on my boots.

"When are you gonna get yourself a girlfriend?" Light flirtatiously hummed, giving me a wink.

Shut up and leave me alone.

"Never."

"C'mon, you so need one, and when you need one, you can EASILY get one, since you're the hottest guy here. Every girl wants you. There's not one girl in this school who would decline to go on a date with the legendary Mihael Keehl, I mean unless she's a lesbian... There's like no other reason! Even if she's taken, she'll leave that guy in a landslide for you. What a–– "

"Oh, I can take any girl who's taken? Oh, MISA!" I called, joking.

"Hey!" Light guffawed, giving me a light smack.

I laughed hard with him.

Real laughter.

The lovely breaths rippling through my throat, the flutter in my stomach, the giddy beats my heart made.

Though it was with a backstabber?

"__Because if I had it my way, I'd slit your throat with the knife that you left in my back!"__

My insides shudder with horror as I remembered that life clenching moment.

Another damp feeling of never ending sadness, closes up in my chest.

I didn't honestly hate Light. He really changed my life.

I guess, even if they betrayed you, old best friends never leave your heart.

Even if that friend was fucking terrible, you know they've changed you're life.

No matter how much you like it or not.

That's why Mail and I are still friends even thought I fucked up everything between us last year. Thank god.

I fucking hated December 2001. More than anything.

"No, I'm serious dude, You seem lonely... I mean, not that I know that or anything... but you never come to parties anymore or come to hang out, you either tell us you have piano or therapy or rehabilitation..." he swirled his mouth to the side in a sympathetic look, eyes staring into mine, glowing with a __'What's happening, this time?'__

"I'm fine." I lie.

Light actually cared for me, and it made me even more guilty thinking about the bullshit that happened in our past.

"Y-you sure?" he backs away a tiny bit, narrowing his eyes, checking my face for any signs of lying complexions.

"Look, dude, it makes me really happy you care, but I'm doing great, I have group therapy, rehab, personal therapy, and I'm on medication... I'm fine... Just busy... I don't want a fucking girlfriend..."

His eyes quickly skim to my wrists, then back at my face.

Another heart throb. He cares. He actually cares.

I'm such a douche-bag.

"U-um, how's u-um, Mail? Why aren't you hanging out with him...?"

My stomach drops. He's too busy. I didn't want to admit it.

I was going to just tell him, some excuse like, __I'm too busy for him as well__, but the real thing just came out. So, there I was, urging my problems at him like he was some kind of personal journal.

"He doesn't have time... Mail has two jobs, and he seems all depressed lately... not in a clinical way, but... and his mom is a children's ER nurse so, she's never really home to actually confirm I can come over..." I let out a big sigh.

"Oh... S-sorry..." Light looked away, either guilty or somehow sad.

"And... My mom doesn't want me to hang out with you... Not after what happened... and I'm so fucking sorry to admit this, but I agree with her..." I trailed, I was trying to find the right thing to say to Light, "Even though you're trying to be all better now, who knows what will happen with you? You're like a fuckin' Jack in The Box..." I huffed a friendly laugh. I gave him a weak buddy punch to the shoulder.

He pursed his lips.

"N-no, I-I get it." he stuttered out quickly.

"I'm sorry..."

"No... It's fine... Just dude... Get a girlfriend. Someone that will make you a happy man." he laughed.

That was the special thing with Light. He can break up tension, by telling you anything. Calming you down with just one little sentence, that can even be a lie for all you care. The thing is, it'll still get you to relax more in any situation with him.

"I don't want a girlfriend. Okay? I don't need one." I smiled at him.

"Okay, fine, get a boyfriend, faggot." he teased, sticking his tongue out, jokingly.

That one key word, that brought my senses back to me.

Boyfriend.

Boy.

Prince Charming.

I would very much like my Prince Charming.

Hey. Wait a minute.

Why didn't I think of this before?

I can ask Light if he knew him!

"Oh yeah, sure!" I tried to play out a sarcastic tone.

"Aw, you have your eye out on some hunk?" he played along, again, wrapping his arm around my back.

"Tell me, who do you want?"

I broke up our exaggerated Match Maker Game Show, my tone switching to a curious one,

"Dude, by the way... Do you know a this boy with white ha-"

I'm broken off. No. No. No. No. No. No.

"Light!" calls a baby-like voice down the hall.

It was Misa and her stupid cheerleader friends.

"Misa!" Light exclaims, skipping to the group of cheerleaders walking toward us.

"Hi Mihael! Hi Light! Hi Mihael!" they giggled.

"Hi..." I groaned.

"What's going on you guys?" Light gave a seductive grin. They giggled again. Some waved to me with their fingers tingling in the air.

Ugh, girls are so annoying!

I give them a slight, lazy wave back. They giggle again.

Misa wraps her arms around the back of Light's neck, while Light snuggles his around her hips. They stare into each other's eyes, dreamily.

__Ew, gross.__

He pecks her on the cheek. All the cheerleaders circle around them, in awe. __Really?__

What if it's not actually gross? Everyone else seems to be all cutesy about it. But not me.

Is it because I'm jealous?

Because I don't have what they do?

That I don't get to do that with my Prince Charming? I shake the thought out of my head.

No. Me and my Prince Charming weren't going to be all seventh grade and honeymoon crazy.

We're actually mature.

I shouldn't be jealous of this Seventh Grade Romance, when my prince and I would take it to the next level.

We'd converse about serious shit, like politics. I guess. College arithmetic shit. And then passionately kiss.

His skin against my skin.

__Bu-dump.__

__What the fuck was that?__

Oh yeah, your heart goes wild when you think about someone you like. I forgot.

My heart breaks loose into thumps, pounding hard inside my chest.

Thump, thump, thump. Knock, knock.

My heart begins to go crazy again as I realized what I just thought of.

My brain has a light orgasm.

Making out. With him. Kissing him _deep_.

__I WANT that! ___my brain_ screams to me.

My stomach twists with butterflies, and my heart melts as I think of it more and more. My face starts to brighten shade of red, as I feel it slowly rushing to my face like a parasite.

Light ans I's other football friends go by and see the huddled group.

"Whoa! Light! I forgot, she asked you out! Let's go see the new newly-weds" he laughed and came over, Zakk and the other trampling behind them.

"Ooooh! You dog!" they sang as they spot Light and Misa in the middle holding each other.

"Hey, Mihael!"

I ignore their greetings, as they notice me standing awkwardly around the clique.

__Hey! You've reached, Mihael Keehl! Sorry, I'm not here right now. I am in a fantasy world, pulling off my lover's pants as I passionately kiss his beautiful face. Please leave a message after the beep.__

__Beeeep.__

"Dude, Mihael, you're like zoned out." Neylon nudges me.

Fuck. And I was just in the middle of taking off his boxers in my daydream. We were TRYING to have our Honeymoon in Cancun.

Fuck you, Jack.

"Man, I'm just tired..." I laughed.

This one's fake.

"Dude, you dating anyone, by the way?" he asks.

I wish.

"AREN'T YOU GUYS CUTE?" Zakk mocked as Light kissed her on the cheek again.

Why can't I have that?

Light's friends cheered and mocked. Misa's friends squealed and awed.

"KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS!" the guys started to jump up and down, pumping fists in the air, chanting. Some trying to see by hurdling up others' shoulders.

"Not at the moment." I get back to him over the racket, trying to sound cool about it.

"That's a bummer." he replies.

If I said it, how I _REALLY_ felt it, It would've came out as a desperate whine.

"OOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHH!" they started to chant at the top of their lungs.

"Awww!" the cooed of girls' voices joined their cheer.

Light leaned in, and kissed her shyly. Misa gives in and blushes.

Really? Really?

You two had sex, but you're all shy and innocent about giving each other a fucking normal kiss? I can't fucking believe this.

All the guys laugh, and mock as they start to make out.

I look away. I'm not sure if I'm too jealous, stunned, or disgusted.

They took about a minute to finally pull away. It was probably about eternity for me.

"I SMELL FIREWORKS!" Zakk jokingly makes his voice into a valley girl squeal.

Laughter follows.

"You guys are so cute!" the girls chatter.

And then fucking three seconds later, everyone's talking about the kiss like it was the last big game.

I stand awkwardly not saying anything, as guys pat Light on the back.

But. What makes him so special about it?

It was just a kiss. Nothing more. He didn't win the lottery. He didn't save a baby from a fire. He didn't stop that one robber running away with the money.

He didn't do shit.

People are so stupid.

I'm over thinking this. I can't believe I'm comparing a kiss with saving babies from fires.

What I mean is, honestly, it was just a fucking kiss, nothing more.

Maybe I was getting too moody, jealous, angry.

I don't know, I just really needed my meds.

"Mish!" I turned around, Mail was coming straight at me, with a huge bear hug.

"Oh, hey," I laughed, trying to give an odd, awkward backwards hug to him.

"Did you catch your Prin-"

Mail caught his vision of the rowdy romance scene in front of me, and his eyes went zoned out and glassy.

He was quiet for a second, dead quiet.

Then, he finally spoke back up to me in dry curiosity,

"...What's happening over here?"

"Oh," I wave it off, unamused, "Light and Misa are going out, and they just kissed so, everyone's freaking out, which I don't even get," I snorted, "I mean, they already fucked before even dating each other, How _LOW_ is that?"

Mail went blank. As if the life were sucked right out of him.

"L-L-Light and M-M-isa had s-s-ex, and n-now they're d-dating?" he bellowed, voice completely broken.

No trace of his award-wining smile.

His face was stale rock, the only thing slightly moving was his chiseled jaw clenching fiercely.

My stomach dropped. I have never seen Mail like this before.

"Yeah, Light lost his virginity to her over the summer... and she asked him out today, he said yes... and now, they just made out... I guess... What's wrong...?" I knit my eyebrows, explaining in an unwary tone.

Mail was a complete statue, just staring ahead at the group, not blinking once.

"Mail?"

I turned back over to the little group, where the guys were monkeying around the circle of the cheerleaders watching Light and Misa rocking each other back and forth, giving smooching pecks.

I almost threw up.

But that was what Mail was directly staring at, spaced out.

Misa was laughing, dreamily, and Light, he had this sly, malicious smile on his face, that I couldn't describe.

I turned back to him.

There was water rising up in his eyes, but not letting loose.

Tears? Am I dreaming?!

It can't be tears.

Whenever you stare too hard without blinking, like take for example in a staring contest, your eyes start to water.

Mail Jeevas doesn't cry.

But then, it happened. Something that honestly broke my heart.

It was terrible seeing my best friend like this.

He burst running down the hallway as fast as he could without a word.

Just like that.

And I stand there shocked, my eyes frozen wide. Now, like his, unblinking.

__What was that all about?__

"MAIL!" I tried to call after him.

But he wouldn't look back, he just kept running.

Running and running and running, until he disappears around the corner. Fades from going way too far down for me to see.

Like in that one dream I kept having after Halle found out I was cutting.

It was like he couldn't hear me calling after him. That one dream where I try my hardest, struggling to get my voice out of my mouth, but it doesn't come out. But I feel my neck grasping for my voice, and my lungs shaking, shaking from yelling as hard as I can, but, still, my voice is silence.

My voice isn't there.

Then I stop screaming, because there's nothing more I can do; My voice is gone.

It's not inside me anymore.

Like my voice can be lost, and never retrieved.

But there was one advantage to this than in the dream, since this was real life.

In my dream, I'm standing in the middle of my living room.

I don't know why, but I'm just standing there.

Then, suddenly, I start to deeply cut my wrists with a kitchen knife, from Halle's set of favorite stainless steel blades.

I don't know why, but I just use it.

I never used a kitchen knife to cut myself in real life, but somehow, in my dream, I used it.

I don't feel anything, I don't feel the usual sting, and the fresh release.

I'm numb in my dream, just watching the scarlet reservoir of my incisions trickle down the rest of my forearm.

It suddenly turns a darker red, then it goes black with a tint of crimson.

And I just watch it, drip, drip, and drip, until the drops slowly sink to the sheepskin carpet below me, forever leaving a stain of my dark red color. They have a hint of brilliant shine, and I watch my blood's light give off and shine, until the drops sink so much into the carpet, they absorb into a dry brown splat.

Before I know it, the front door flies open. And Halle's back.

I've had this dream about seventeen times, and in each dream it's different.

Sometimes she arrives from work, or sometimes, she's back from the supermarket, hustling into the living room with bags and bags of groceries.

Whenever it's the supermarket, It always gets me. Strikes me emotionally, because of the disappointed horror she gives.

Then she drops the groceries.

Because she notices me cutting. That what always got me. The loud crash.

She looks at me, and she starts to cry. She turns back to the door to head out, and run away, probably forever.

In the dream, the only thing I could ever feel is my stomach twisting with nerves.

And my lungs trying to belt out my voice.

I try to scream out, to try and stop her. To try to tell her I'm sorry, but my voice is gone. Vanished.

My throat, and lungs struggle so hard to yell.

My jaw stretches from trying to scream as loudly as I can, from trying to open my mouth as big as possible;

But nothing comes out.

"HALLE! HALLE!" I try.

I don't hear myself, but feel me screaming silence.

The only thing I hear, is the door slamming in my face.

She vanished. Just like that.

I have this gasp. A gasp that felt like my last breath.

Then I awake.

And I cry.

The thing is; I couldn't move. I couldn't do anything. I couldn't run after Halle after she tried to leave.

But since this was real, and I had the biggest advantage, I could've went after him. I could've ran after him and get him, and ask him what's wrong. This was different.

And I was more than glad that I had a chance to do it. To actually move.

To actually go after something I wanted to stop.

"What's wrong with him?" Neylon asked, catching the scene of Mail's random outburst.

"I don't know... I'm going to go find out..." I started to pace down the hall.

"Alright but what abo-"

"I'll catch up to you guys later. Tell the others too." I said.

"Okay... See ya, Mihael." he said, tone unsteady.

It kind of sounded like "That's a bad idea..."

I don't care. He's my best friend.

My __real __best friend.

And I look around everywhere. Everywhere possible.

Locker wings, on each floor, a few staircases, around the elevators, the lunch room, the library, around the gym, eMac Lab, study hall, around the music studios.

He's not there. "Mail! Mail!" I call.

Of course no one yells back, but, it was worth a try.

I try the other two staircases.

If he wasn't there, I had two options left; outside in the parking lots or either the sport fields, or he took the Metro home.

"Mail!"

I found him standing in the corner of a staircase. He was below the first row of stairs, nestled between two walls. His head was pried forward into them. His hands hung low. Back was desperately drooped.

He looked like a sad child in preschool who had to go stand in the corner because he misbehaved.

"Mail..." I rushed down to him, and tried to turn him around to me.

He wouldn't budge, so I walk over to his side, put my hand on his shoulder, and look at him sideways between a dark tiny space left.

And then came another shock, that made my stomach drop low, and my heart jump in surprise.

I didn't hear his sobs, or his sniffles. I didn't hear him cry.

I've never seen him cry. It was the scariest thing I have ever seen in my life.

He just stood there, his glasses pulled up over his messy bangs, cold tears streaming down his face, eyes still pried frozen.

Blank.

Just tears.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, dude?" I jumped back horrified.

No answer.

For some reason, I felt a twinge of guilt wash over me.

Like everything was my fault. That I wasn't being the bestest friend possible. Like I wasn't trying enough.

"Mail?"

No answer.

I shook him.

"Mail! Mail! Mail! What's wrong?" I cried, shaking him harder.

It was like he was dead.

Never mind. This was exactly like the dream.

Only vice versa.

There was nothing I could do to make him talk.

So I wrapped my arms around my frozen best friend, and held him for sympathy, not knowing the cause of his tears, I see now for the first time.

After about two minutes, a dead, withering voice speaks out of his chapped lips, that didn't seem like it even belonged to Mail.

I was still too oblivious about the fact my brilliantly gleaming best friend, had sad, dark, emotions as well. If you ever took a first look at Mail, you could have assumed he had never frowned in his life.

"…I'm in love with Misa."

I was speechless.

Another shock.

He was full of these today. And it was scaring the shit out of me.

"I-I'm sorry..." was the only thing I could really think of telling him.

I had no idea.

I don't think anyone had an idea.

I don't think he ever told anyone. Right?

I felt a little betrayed he didn't tell me, but avoided my feelings for the cause. He was hurting, badly, there was no time for my easily-offended self to get butt-hurt.

"H-how long have you loved her?"

"I started liking her in seventh grade before she got super popular..." he muttered, sobbing.

"O-oh... How come you didn't tell me?" my voice cracked.

"What?"

"H-how come you didn't tell me? I'm your best friend... You should have told me..." I ran my fingers through my hair, nervous.

I'm so selfish. I'm so fucking selfish.

Instead of figuring the whole problem out, I just pushed questions at him, that concerned me, desperate to know why he didn't tell me, and if he told anyone else.

I tried to shake the offended selfishness out of my head. This was serious.

"Well, It was near May, so I thought it would go away over the summer, it was just a tiny crush... I didn't think it'd be too important... but it never really went away... then one day she relied on me... her parents got killed by a burglar, and I was the only one who comforted her... and then I just kinda got attached. I've liked her for like six years, Mish. That's not just a crush anymore. Crushes don't last that long. Look, I'm sorry if I hurt you by not telling you but..." he explained tearfully through his runny nose.

Shit.

"No-no... I'm sorry for being selfish... I was a just bit scared that you didn't like me enough to share something like this... I'm sorry..." I pressed, "I don't want to be a bad friend... to you."

"I didn't tell anyone... and I didn't really wanna share something personal like that... It's not you, it's me, I'm just not the type of guy to tell anyone my strong emotions for anything..."

"I-I totally get it... S-sorry. I'm a selfish freak..." I nodded.

"No, you're not... You actually fucking went after me this time, instead of staying with those clowns..." he breathed a small laugh.

My stomach dropped again.

"Sorry." was the only thing I could say.

I remember when I would blow him off for them.

Mail teared up again, the tears travel down his face.

I frowned.

He frowned.

His frowning followed by a quivering lip.

"And the worst part is... she looked so happy... so I have to accept i-it!" he sobbed through his clenched teeth, struggling to get it out, tightly closing down his lids.

I sighed.

"You should have told me earlier," I tried to cheer him up, "If I knew, I would've beat Light's ass when he told me, and threw him in the dumpster behind the lunch room. He woulda been compost, and nobody would've ever known... Shhhh..."

Mail started to guffaw, snorting out his snot, urging more steamy tears out.

"I fucking hate Light Yagami so much..." he sniffled in whisper, concluding, after his long laugh.

I giggled. "I know, I know, he's a cunt. Bet he's secretly gay, his last name backwards is spelled, _I'm A Gay_."

Mail burst another rowdy laugh that echoed, causing him to then muffle his mouth with his left palm.

"I don't know why she went for him, you're clearly __way __better." I smiled.

"I wish you could've killed him right on the spot when you wanted to." he gives a mischievous smile, more tears coming down his red stained cheeks.

That one scene replays in my mind, churning my stomach.

__"Because if I had it my way, I'd slit your throat with the knife you left in my back!"__

"Yeah." I pat him on the shoulder. Light has done so much terrible shit to Mail in the past, it wasn't even funny.

"Next time I'll see him, I'll punch him in the face."

"Well, don't do __that__." he whined sympathetically.

Oh, Mail. Always being too kind in the end.

"Even though I hate him... It's not like Light knew..." he said, wiping his tears away.

"Fine, I'll just give him a purple-nurple and a wet-willie." I teased.

"Okay. That's fine with me." Mail laughed away the rest of his tears.

"Don't worry, they'll break up in at least a week. I promise you. It's Light Yagami we're talking about here." we started to head down.

"Yeah, you're right." he sniffed, looking down at his boots.

"I'm always right. And if they wont break up in a week tops, I'll break them up." I raised a threatening fist, jokingly.

Mail laughs again.

Good. We were on the road to recovery.

This is the most quality time I've spent with Mail since July, seriously.

And I was going to take more advantage of it. I missed my __real __best friend.

"Hey, we need to get your amazing bouncy energy back into you— What do you say, we get you some coffee or some Red Bull and then we can go get the new Nazi Zombies?"

"Dude, that sounds... fucking awesome... I don't have to work today... and I have a few pages of Homework, so yeah, that sounds good... and... I hope Mom won't mind..." he nodded.

"Bet she won't. You're with me. Let's go."

And finally, I hung out with my best friend. I guess, it wasn't the biggest, funnest hang out, but I guess calming him down because of crying over unrequited love, still counted.

I bet Mail would do the same thing for me, in a few months.

I don't think Prince Charming would like me back either.


	4. Chapter 4: Illumination

**TW:** Mention of Nate and Rester's anti-depressants, quick mention of alcohol.

I don't own Death Note, yo.

* * *

><p>I twirled my hair over and over in thought.<p>

I got up early for the re-run of last nights CSI:New York I couldn't catch last night because of my homework.

I made myself a bowl of Frosted Flakes, and sat my normal position on the couch with one hand one my right knee, my left leg loose under my right. To top it off, I covered myself with a few fuzzy blankets I found in the corridor's closet. Ah, this was a good morning.

This was an easy to solve episode. I can already tell that didn't kill his daughter, he had planned to, but in the end, ironically, either Officer Yeltzin accidentally ended her life or Nana had raced to kill her before Mr. Wilson even decided to invite Officer Yeltzin over for coffee.

And the writers thought they were being overly clever with this episode.

I started to swirl one of my hair strands so fast that it got a small knot.

"Ah!" I winced.

"Nate, stop, twirling your hair, it's bad luck in three different countries." Rester storms into the kitchen adjusting his magenta tie, "Jesus, It's like you don't know when to stop playing around with random itsy-bitsy things."

"I'm sorry..." I tilted my spoon back into to my cereal bowl, taking a small slurp of Frosted Flakes.

He was right. I would play with my hood strings, lint on my socks or shirts, my cuticles, small wind up toys, key chains, cell phone buttons, zippers, everything.

I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm a ninth grade, fourteen year old boy, and I just can't stop playing around with things like a little kid.

I guess, maybe it was because when I was a little kid, I didn't get to do that. I didn't get toys. That was probably why I enjoyed eying, observing and playing with toys, dice, dominoes, marbles and other random things so much to this day.

It was too fun, I couldn't control myself.

Rester poured fresh coffee in his travel mug, and observes my new knot.

"You better untie that, the Chinese say that if you have knots in your hair or shoe laces, you'll have knots in you love life." he chugs the rest of his coffee, and places the empty mug into the sink.

"I think my face already had given me those knots." I mumbled and grabbed the remote to turn the volume up louder. Rester's so damn annoying sometimes.

"I have to go attend an urgent meeting... I'll see you later. You want me to bring you back noodles?" he opens up our Zoloft bottles and places the baby blue 50 mg in my hand.

"I'm fine." I told him, swallowing it down.

Now, I can't even look at food. And heavy foods, like the pasta he gets from restaurants, aren't going to help.

"You're missing out, sport." If Dad had been one of those action figures that say five or six different mundane things when you push a button on his abs, that would've been one of his prerecorded phrases. After I hit depression, anyway.

Lester quickly washes down a glass of water with his mg, and put on a light jacket. He glanced out the window to the view of the driveway as he zipped it up over his business suit, "Hey, rake up the leaves, will you? There's an ocean of them out there."

"Alright." I sighed. I didn't mind raking leaves, but I was so tired, and it was a Saturday morning. All I felt like doing was inviting Gevanni over to play Taboo and watch Mission Impossible or something.

Whatever.

"Good boy. I love you, Bye." he shut the door, with a generous slam.

"I love you too," I called back to him, but he was already trampling down the stairs, "Have fun at work."

I went to go put my bowl of unfinished cereal flakes into the sink, scooped them out into the garbage disposal with the spoon, and got to the leaf cleaning business.

I put on a warm sweater in a jiffy and stormed outside with the rake.

It was windy, though the sun was glowing radiantly all around, shining so sweetly, so innocently.

It was a dying autumn.

My breath made opaque shapes that hung in smoky disintegrating clouds in the air.

All around, leaves died gorgeously in orange, fire red, and sunset yellow, as some blew around in a collage of their graves, or trampled around the cement with soft scratches of their withered, dying ends.

Matsuda, our college kid neighbor downstairs, stood next to outdoor ash tray on the porch, blowing smoke rings with his Marlboro cigarette.

I like Matsuda. He's actually really nice, and not to mention cute. Medium length black hair with a suave curl, glimmering almond colored eyes, and clear glowing skin.

No wonder I hear women moan almost every night.

He took an inhale, and turned to me, "Oh hey, Nate, what's up?"

"Hi Matsuda. Not much, just going raking leaves." I said back to him, walking down to the driveway's sea of dead red and orange.

He chuckled.

"You know, this is basically my driveway, since your dad doesn't even own a car... and I live down here, it's my driveway full of leaves. So, don't you think it's my job to actually do this shit?" he smiled friendly, inhaling his almost burning-out Marlboro once more.

"No, it's okay, I mean, I like raking leaves." I started to scrape the warm colored pallets into a bunch.

"Not at all, here, since you're doing our job, I'll give you twenty." he bit down on the Marlboro, and moved both his hands to his wallet.

See what I mean, by really nice?

But I feel too much of an annoyance to take it. I stop raking for a second.

"But... But... You need the money, you're in college, you pay for your own food, and rent." I whined sympathetically.

"Don't worry. Take it. Buy whatever you want you wanted to save up on." he grinned again, switching hands to hold the Marlboro.

I laughed in my own pity, "I dunno, can I buy I boyfriend?" I started to rake again, crumpling the dead leaves into a mini pile to join the huge bundle.

"You can buy a cheap hooker," he joked back, but then went on, "You want a boyfriend, huh?" he huffed out the Marlboro's smoke with a crooked smile. Damn, that was really adorable.

"Yup. Lucky for me, my whole school is homophobic, and I haven't even heard a peep from any guys that are interested in boys. And with my 'drop dead gorgeous' looks, there is a guarantee I'll get a lot of guys drooling over me," I bemused in playful sarcasm to him, doing kind of a little odd dance as I scraped more of the leaves into piles, "So, by my calculations, my chance of finding a boyfriend is zero percent. Zee-roe. Notch. None. Zip."

"I don't think having a boyfriend or a girlfriend is the most important thing in the world, bud, Just focus more on your academics or something you really love doing," he shrugged, "Why are you in such need of one right now?"

"I do focus on academics, I'm just really lonely... Besides, Rester's probably going to leave me for business trips. He's been extra busy for his boss so he can promote him. And that promotion leads to him going to all these nice big cities all around the states for meetings, presentations and conferences. He told me all about it in June. So I really need someone to keep me company." I explained, a bit dull, from over thinking the depressing reminders.

He nodded in understanding sympathy,

"Friends?"

"I only have one friend, remember? Gevanni. It's his junior year so he can't be with me all the time anymore. Plus, it's not the same. You don't kiss and have sex with friends." I added an odd bitter laugh at the end.

"Friends with benefits." Matsuda jokingly pointed.

"Not funny. He's my best friend. Best friends don't do that... you only see them as a best friend." I tried.

"And... Mom..." he went on to more options, but his voice swayed to disappointed sadness, "Mom's dead..." he sighed, and took a long drag of his cigarette.

"Mom's... dead..." I repeated, the depressing chocking in my throat, last year's September all coming back to shoot me in the face and chest once more.

I tried to shake the memory out, and started to rake again.

Matsuda put on an enthusiastic face, the one with puppy eyes and everything.

"Oh, come on, Nate, you'll get a boyfriend this year! I promise. It's only October. Of your freshman year, too. You have so much more time to find someone special. Some people haven't even come of the closet yet. And as a matter of fact, you haven't either, so how are you supposed to know who's homo or not?" he finished his Marlboro, stepped on the ashes, and shrugged, breathed in the cool autumn air as a finishing touch to his advice.

I stopped in my tracks, feeling like a complete dummy, and sighed.

"God, you're right." I groaned in realization.

"I'm always right! Now, go buy a coffee brunch or a Mongolian Barbecue with Rester, or Gevanni." Matsuda smiled, and pounded a conquering fist into the air.

I rolled my eyes playfully. Dork.

He waved a 'see ya later', and left the twenty dollar bill on the last cement step of our porch, placing a pebble to weigh it down from getting caught in the windy Fall currents.

I sighed once more, and lifted the pebble off to free the valuable green slip of cash and into my jean pocket.

Matsuda is _probably_ right, but god do I hope that he's _actually_ right.

I raked up the rest of the leaves, stuffed the piles into the big brown bags, and in another hour tops, I was finally done parting up the sea of withering Autumn red leaves.

It's nine forty-four in the morning.

I have no life whatsoever.

_I guess I should go have a Mongolian Barbecue with Gevanni. _I shrug to myself.

Or. Maybe, I can save up the twenty for something better, and stick to my original plan of having Gevanni over to watch a action movie, or play a board game with me.

Maybe we can have a Terrible Tuesday Marathon. Since we missed the last, I can make an exception to move it to today.

Terrible Tuesday Marathon is where me and Gevanni watch four horrible movies in a row. The rules to survive and win the marathon is to try your hardest not to make any rude comments on how much the current movie playing is terrible.

It's fun for me, but he's a _sucker_ at it.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. It's Gevanni.

"Speak of the Devil." I answer, "Do you wanna hang out?"

I hear blurry whizzing of car tires gliding across the gravel in the background, a rushed voice speaking back to me, "No," he retorts, offended; "I told you, I have a soccer tournament against Hunington Hills, don't you ever freaking listen?"

I literally pressed my palm to my face in embarrassment. He had been talking about it all week.

"Right, that,"

I hear Gevanni's little three year old brother Benny, kicking in his car seat, cheering something giddy in toddler language, so I was amused Gevanni couldn't swear at me. He would've said '_fucking_' if he could.

I forgot what I was going to actually ask him, so I blurt out the first thing to come to mind,

"How is that going for you?"

"H-e-double hockey sticks." he grumbled, annoyed.

"Gevanni, I can hear you in the car, you're not even there yet." I laughed, and started to stumble back up the stairs to Lester and I's floor.

"Yeah, but, there's a bunch of annoying populars on the soccer team and you know it."

"Like...?" I turn the nob, and walk back into the rent.

"Like, Everyone! Oh, and, did I mention? Mihael Keehl. Mihael freaking Keehl."

Mihael Keehl?

That sounded oddly familiar. Mihael Keehl.

The name instantly started to skip and skip in my head like a broken record.

I knew that name! I knew that name...

From where did I know that name...?

It seemed so important too. I was over thinking this. Why was this so important?

I think for another brief minute about where I have even heard that strange, popular name, Mihael Keehl, as Gevanni rambles on about no other than that vaguely familiar blasted Mihael Keehl.

Now suddenly everything is about Mihael Keehl. My mind, paralyzed as it struggles to think where the hell it came from, and Gevanni's mouth just blabbing on and on about him.

Blah, blah, blah, blah, "Mihael Keehl," Blah, blah, blah, "Mihael Keehl," Blah blah, "And then so like he disappeared for like centuri-" blah blah blah, "And now he's all back, and better than ever, serio-" blah blah blah blah, "and he's still worshiped like a freaking god, I mean, honestly, how low is that? And I think his disappearance like, raised his popularity, and he's like so freaking ove-" blah blah blah blah blah blah, "And now I have to play soccer with him, he's on the team!"

It sounded like some kind of hot celebrity or singer everyone was talking about now days. The name was so catchy, not an ordinary name.

Once Gevanni's rant on the guy stopped, I popped back out of my wandering trance as well.

I wave the whole Mihael Keehl thing off. This must all be a coincidence. Maybe it sounded familiar, but it really wasn't. That kind of stuff happens all the time. With everyone, really.

I finally remembered what I was going to ask Gevanni,

"Nevermind that, you'll live, they're not going to murder you," I wavered over to the living room, "Anyways, if you're all busy going to Hunington Hills, why are you calling me?" I plopped onto the couch, stretched, silently yawned, and turned on the TV.

Dad had it turned on the Young And The Restless, so I just turned that on Volume Level 7, listening to Gevanni complain and state his explanation, as I watched the almost mute actors dramatically writhe to each other's retorts and desperate love and sex confessions.

"I'm calling you, to remind you, that we didn't even start the freaking mini-project Mrs. Hansen assigned–– _Exploring Guts _or whatever the freak–– You're my partner remember?"

I lay there, stretched out on the couch, with no panic or fear, watching the Young And The Restless transform to a caramel chocolate candy bar commercial. I watch the waterfall of rich caramel, splaying out passionately slowly onto almonds, and then inside the milk chocolate bar.

"_Taking A Look Inside Human The Organism_," I corrected, "And, it's not due until Wednesday, what's the huge rush?"

"Well, I'm arriving in freaking Hunington, which is in Syracuse, so I'll be out for the weekend, practicing, then the tournament, then the after party," Gevanni pauses to raise his voice away from the line, and to his overjoyed screaming baby brother, "Benny, you throw a Cheerio at me one more time, I will kick the nose off your face," then back to me, as Benny starts to whine in the background from Gevanni's brotherly loving regards, "After, it's the long drive back home, Monday is my Oboe recital, which I _can't_ miss, then, on Tuesday, I'm free only half the day, since at six, my Great Aunt Loud is visiting."

"Uh-huh, and what do you want me to do about it?" I asked him, unamused, flipping to another channel, claiming to be airing CSI: Los Angeles.

"Ugh, are you that retarded? I'm telling you to start half of it now or Sunday, and I'll meet up with you on Tuesday after school to finish the sucker," for a second he contorted over to him mom, who was mumbling something to him behind the wheel, "Yeah, okay, sure." he said back to her.

"Alright. Fine." I told him sternly annoyed, as I heard his breath come back to the speaker.

"Where are we meeting?" I asked him tiredly, as I stood up from the couch, scanning the room over for Dad's Dell to start the project.

"Uh, um––Starbucks?" he blurts back in a jiffy, "Nate, I got to go,"

"Wait! Wait!––You realize that there are over five thousand goddamn Starbucks in Manhattan?" I urged.

"Uh, the one closest to Whammy, I don't know, uh––We'll talk about this later, but for now, I got to go!" he stammered, as I hear the van's doors slamming, and voices jabbering in the background.

I sighed, "Okay, bye, Good luck."

"Thanks, bye." and the line went dead.

I found Rester's Dell laying right under his bed, powered the thing on. It takes a moment for it to wheeze back to life, but I figure I can totally wait if using the laptop has to do with annoying homework I don't really want to do.

I start to think of what to type up for the report on the Cardiac cycle, but somehow, I sit there staring at a blank Microsoft Word, finding myself thinking about that name, Mihael Keehl again.

* * *

><p>It was about three thirty-five when Gevanni and I finally arrived at the coffee shop, desperately in need of isolation with heat from the bitter November, New York frost on Tuesday. Just like we planned.<p>

I was just glad to be finally finishing project, and drinking some coffee along with it.

Since it was a frosty November, they labeled their blackboard menu with a chalk smothered 'It's just that time of year again!', placing the season inspired coffees under it. A gingerbread coffee, egg nog coffee, peppermint coffee. Pretty much everything Christmas related you can think of that can actually be in a coffee.

I'm getting something cold. Frozen coffee's way better.

I order my drink, tell them my name, and give them the bills I got from Matsuda the other day. Gevanni's hassling, and setting up our things at a two person table by the big picture window close to the door.

Great. Whenever someone opens the door, I'll get cold.

"Nate?" the employee behind the kiosk reads the name on the ordered drink.

I raise my arm up to claim my order. He hands it to me. I take a sip, and turn for Gevanni and I's table.

As I contort, something catches my eye.

Ice blue. My direction.

Cold blue into my vibrant gray.

My heart created an uproar bounce, and a dead skip as my stomach dropped low. I caught my breath, appalled about these eyes.

I knew those eyes.

As I stared back at them, the eyes froze as they saw me looking right back into them. My own had frozen as well at their freezing color.

I knew those eyes.

They were familiar. Dead familiar.

My heart thudded in my chest.

Then, my rational senses kicked back to me.

I remembered them from school.

I remembered them from mom.

I remembered them from the NYC local news last year.

_"And, About twelve kids, from Whammy Prep, located in downtown Manhattan, had been caught with these actions and artifacts in their possession. Resources say that one, had came out, dead, as he, overdone it. Rest in peace, and to the rest of Whammy students, be safe. And don't make the same mistakes." _I remembered the lady news anchor had stated, looking insincere. I was in the kitchen, finishing bits of macaroni, overhearing Dad watching the news. I saw pictures of the twelve kids whiz by on the screen.

He was one of them.

Blond haired. Shockingly handsome.

I remembered I thought 'Whoa_, he's hot.'_ as his photo displayed onto the screen.

The angry, cold, brutal eyes staring into the camera, I would never forget.

_"Yeesh." _Dad clicked off the TV_, "Can you believe those kids? Terrible. What is the New York City school district, doing?" _he said, _exasperated__, _picking up a Reader's Digest from the coffee table. I stayed silent. I wasn't sure why, but I was just silent.

"_I hope those kids get their act together or else I'll have no choice but to decline the request Whammy Prep sent you. That's just preposterous what their students just did."_

Wait. Hold on.

Yes. There's no doubt.

How could I have been so stupid?

Mihael Keehl. _Mihael Keehl_.

I knew it was familiar. I knew it.

That's where I knew that name.

That was Mihael Keehl. And here he is right now, staring into my eyes.

It's that popular kid from school. The MVP, the honor roll student. The one who got in that huge shenanigan in December that shocked the whole school district, since he was considered one of the top students. I bet he didn't even know I existed, but he's looking my way as if he wants to hunt me down. I look his way, blank, heart somehow pounding faster, but masking a calm unreadable face.

I was confused.

Those eyes.

A shot of Deja Vu. Mom.

He has some kind of aura around him. Everything around him, his eyes, his face.

It was illumination.

It was odd.

But I to him, was a total unknown stranger and he was stranger to me. I just knew his name. What he had as a reputation when he was a Sophomore last year at Whammy Prep. Popular. Reckless.

Handsome.

Just looking into his eyes for a second hits me with realization that he was probably the most handsome guy I've ever seen.

More handsome than the male models in mom's fashion magazines, and I knew I saw them as very handsome, attractive, men. You know, the ones from stuff like Gucci, Calvin Klein, Ralph Lauren.

He was way more good looking. Probably by one thousand times more good looking.

My heart skips another beat.

Why is he looking at _me_?

I shifted back to Gevanni, my heart strangely pounding with intense, hard, deep beats as if I just had the most scariest, pressurizing, moment of my life.

Maybe it was, looking into Mihael Keehl's ice glistened eyes.

It was more of a good kind of pressurizing moment. It felt good.

They were mom's eyes. Though with a touch of evil.

I started to adore and adore those eyes more and more, heart beating with intuition.

Those eyes _we're_ illumination.

They left me hanging. Clueless.

And it bugged me, so much. I couldn't keep it in anymore.

I knew who he was, I knew it.

I hope I'm not mistaken. That had to be him.

I was sure of it. It had to be.

I usually hear everyone talking about him.

I notice Gevanni's looking over at him too, after Mihael took a stare at our table.

Well, actually, I couldn't say 'looking' was the right word.

He was giving Mihael a serious death glare.

Without uncontrollable notice, I suddenly pop the question to Gevanni, trying my best to sound completely casual about it.

"Hey, doesn't that guy go to our school? That's um... Mihael Keehl right?"

"Yeah, that's Mihael Keehl alright. Total man candy, not a girl at school doesn't have at least a slight crush on the guy... I hate him. I _know_ he's not the nicest guy out there." he leans in secretively forward, voice almost a whisper,

"I caught Linda crying after a verbal fight with him, and it _sickened_ me. He's popular scum that everyone worships. It's so annoying. That's why I hate going to soccer with _him_."

"Really? I mean, c'mon, don't be too hard on him..." I take a quick glance over to Mihael. He's sitting quietly in thought, reading over his Pre Calculus textbook, lightly tapping his pencil against the cover like a drumstick.

He looked like the most casual, down-to-earth kind of guy to me.

I couldn't say I supported Gevanni's statement.

Maybe I was too oblivious about Mihael. But somehow, I couldn't really look into his problems, and just positively judged him on one quick glance.

Which seemed 'normal, popular (very attractive) teen' to me.

"Why do you say that?" Gevanni's eyes narrowed in disbelief.

"Look, He might be nice. _He might be nice_. Maybe he was staring at us because he wanted to start a conversation, since we do all go to the same school, but you made him shy, because you glared at him." I pressed around for excuses, "And did you even know why Linda and him were fighting? Maybe Linda said something nasty to him first, she isn't the nicest person. You know, she's called me a dumb dyke before all because I didn't want to date her..."

"Shy?! Shy my ass, Nate! He's the most obnoxious kid in school with that Light Yagami, and Jack Neylon, and fucking Zakk Irius! God, Zakk! I hate him the most." Gevanni rolls his eyes at Zakk's name, and continues on, "Okay, I _admit_, I didn't get the info on Linda, so that's extra-brownie-points for him, I guess." he shrugged.

This time, I somehow couldn't believe the words that came out of Gevanni's mouth.

Somehow, I kept arguing for Mihael Keehl.

"Well, maybe he's different... You can't go around judging everyone like that." I try.

"Well-well-I mean-He-You're right... I'm sorry." he stammered, disappointed he couldn't convince me of Mihael Keehl's flaws.

"It's fine, don't say sorry... but you just set your standards so low for some people..."

Gevanni tries to turn the subject.

I get it.

At school, everything was about Mihael Keehl. And outside of school, a place Gevanni could get away from all that, wasn't really working out anymore, since even _I_ was starting to talk about him.

"Can, we just fucking get onto this project...? Oh, and do you want some banana bread? I feel like having some." he grumbled half the sentence until his mood lifted for the remaining, since it was on the subject of his beloved banana bread.

I just go with it. Even though, I still want to know more about Mihael, I needed to stop.

"Yeah, hold on." I take Gevanni's laptop out of his backpack and powered it on.

Gevanni shoves some papers and red pens onto the table.

I take a stare back at Mihael.

I catch his ice blue eyes already staring into mine. My heart suddenly jumps from the unexpectedness.

Once he catches my glance, he swiftly moves his eyes back to his homework, and starts to scribble something down, balancing his textbook and notebook paper on his knee that crossed over his left leg.

I turned back to Gevanni, hoping he didn't notice.

I tried to distract him.

"Yeah, I think I'll go for some banana bread, just not a lot though, You'll share with me right?"

Obviously, I don't actually want to eat. I just never tell Gevanni this. If I did, he'd be too worried about me and tell Rester about my eating problem.

And that will not end well.

"Of course." he breathes a laugh.

"Thanks, I'll start typing." I waited for the laptop to wheeze to life, as I held my finger on the power button. Gevanni's laptop wasn't necessarily a dinosaur, but wasn't necessarily new either, so the process of turning it on was a dragging hassle.

"Okay," Gevanni got out a power cord for the laptop, plugged it into the available socket under the table, and takes a look at the line, "Long line, I'll go take a piss."

"Alright." I tell him, taking the cord and plugging it into the laptop. It must've been out of power.

I suddenly feel the ice eyes on me again. I swiftly waver my sight over to them from the corner of my eye. I see them move down, but I don't catch them staring at me.

My heart sinks.

_Focus. _I think, _Focus. Don't be intimidated, don't be interested, don't do anything. That's just Mihael Keehl. Just. Mihael Keehl._

_Focus on the project._

I sit and type up '_Exploring Guts_' for a while until I run out of coffee. All I have left is caramel and whipped cream splayed out on the bottom of my cup. Which I do want to eat. Sweets are amazing. It's the only thing I'd eat.

I didn't get any of my traits from Rester or Mom, or my foster family growing up. I had all this weird shit I was born with. I had obsession of sweets, sometimes I'd sit down really odd, I had OCD over small shit that shouldn't be focused upon, I'd bite my thumb nail in thought, and I'd curl strands of my hair like I was a girly girl. I never knew where all of it came from, and why.

Either it was grew on me, or my real parents were really screwed up in the head.

I stood up to get a plastic spoon to scrape out the whipped cream from the bottom of my coffee.

_Ah. Whipped cream, sweet and fluffy._

As I start to grow closer to the plastic spoons, forks, extra cups, and cup holders, I can't help but notice the supply kiosk is about three mere feet away from Mihael's table.

Growing more closer and closer to his table somehow scared me. Like some kind of impulse that you were going to _die_ at your destination.

I try not to get obsessed with the bitter ice behind his eyes. I try not to look at Mom's eyes and get depressed. I try not to look at the eyes on the news in December 2001 and be hit with a burst of a nostalgic depression.

I try my best to keep my head down and pretend like he doesn't exist.

I try to hide the fact I actually really want to talk to him.

I try to hide the fact that I think he's really handsome.

I try to hide everything.

But wait. This isn't hard. It isn't. I'm always like this, in my ghostly shell. My stone face.

_I am the living dead._

_Just be yourself._

So. With my usual, normal self, I drop the impulse, and erase the thought of the sad, blue frosty eyes he had been born with, and grab a plastic spoon.

And for once I feel bashfully normal.

Even though it's not so normal to act like a mindless robot.

It's because I took all that nervousness, to act, to grab a simple plastic spoon in front of Mihael Keehl if he decides to look at me again. He had already given me dozens of glances today.

Did he?

_Maybe he hasn't._

_Maybe I was dreaming. Hallucinating. _

_Why would he look at you? You're a freak._

But Gevanni, he saw him looking at us too, right?

Why am I so hung up on this? Why am I over thinking this?

He's Mihael Keehl. He doesn't know me. He's not going to talk to me.

Why is this so important to me? I usually don't want to talk to anyone. I usually don't want to look at anyone.

But he was illumination to me. He dragged me closer. He was an impulse. Some kind aura.

And I didn't even know why.

Was it because I think he's dead handsome?

He makes me feel things I haven't felt before.

He makes me come out of my shell.

Trailing back to the table with an unknown, stupidly blank face, as if my thoughts were erased, my thoughts were quite opposite, buzzing at every corner of my brain, screaming, and wondering hopelessly what all this bullshit was.

"Excuse me."

And then I dead stop in my tracks, because my heart stops and my eyes widen to the size of the moon, and I think I grow even pale, because my whole world is paused.

Either I am dying from epilepsy or I just heard Mihael Keehl call over to me.

I have never heard Mihael Keehl's voice, but I knew this voice that was calling over to me was his, as if I had listened to Mihael talk to me for hours and hours, in another life.

It belonged to him. It was a voice that belonged to someone as handsome as him.

And it was attractive to my ear. A voice that I would listen to forever.

I almost blush. I feel my heart starting to beat hard against my chest from the impulse of his soul and illumination of his eyes, and now the inception of his voice.

I turn, my face still keeping a blank tone. It was used to being plastered without color or shape.

His handsome face was more emotion than mine itself, but it's not like it's hard for anyone to beat my face in a contest of displaying feelings.

It was looking almost shocked, tinting with pink and a smooth peach, mixing with a casual emotion, as if it was a good book with a shocking surprise ending.

And he's talking to me.

He's just sitting there, staring with an odd presence at me.

I don't know what to say.

"You dropped these." he says, sincerely.

I look down trying not to get caught up in Mom's eyes. He moves his palm towards me, and I realize I just dropped a bunch of my coin change and metro tokens

I felt a bit embarrassed. That wasn't the best way to leave a first impression on somebody. Not on Mihael.

"Oh, I'm sorry." I walk back closer to him to get them.

"No, it's fine, I just didn't want you to lose anything, especially in New York City." he got up, and met me halfway, breathing me a friendly smile.

My heart took a skip. He was gazillion times more handsomer up close. And he was polite.

Why was Gevanni so critical of him?

"Thank You." I smiled in favor, as he dropped them carefully into his palm.

Maybe he thought I was a tourist.

So I comment.

"I actually live here, I go to your school, too." I try to laugh as nicely as I can, trying to show him I wont take offense if he didn't even know I existed.

Because I'm sure, someone as popular and handsome, and talented as Mihael wouldn't have a clue who clinically depressed fuck-up, gay, me, actually was.

And I was okay with that. It's a good thing he doesn't know me.

"Oh, I know! I know who you are! I mean, if you still live here, it's still the same." he laughed, looking down at his boots.

But... he seemed so _kind_. Well to _me_ anyway. Gevanni always gave popular people so much crap. No wonder they all hate each other.

And somehow; He knew who I was.

"Ah, Didn't know you knew me. Learned that I'm not too invisible, today."

I pressed, a smile tugging at my lips to ease the tension of my comment.

Mihael was about to open his mouth, but was interrupted before he could even start to say anything.

"NATE!"

Gevanni's musky voice cuts through mine.

I was kind of late turning back to Gevanni, about five long seconds late, but I couldn't help it, his eyes were holding mine with such illumination.

Mihael and I look over at him, standing over at our table flaring his nostrils, in angered disbelief, waving a bag of Banana Bread.

A sarcastic "_HELLO_?" was written all over his face.

I frown.

I turn back to Mihael to tell him, our conversation is now kaput because if Gevanni catches me talking to Mihael again, he'd probably kill me.

Mihael looks annoyed at him.

"I gotta go." I said a bit casually, but inside, I was terribly pissed at Gevanni.

I hear Mihael stutter behind me,

"Wa-Okay."

"OH, YEAH UM HEY WHATSUP MIHAEL." Gevanni drawled over to Mihael as I stalked back over.

_Oh, god, no please. Don't pick a fight with Mihael Keehl. Don't pick a fight with Mihael Keehl. Cut it out Gevanni._

I sit back down, trying to pretend everyone was invisible.

Mihael growls back with a fake smile to the bickering boy.

"Oh, Not much, Gevanni. How's anger management therapy going for you?" he snapped.

My stomach sank.

Mihael Keehl _was_ kind of mean. Like the other kids who told Gevanni he needed help. Which I agree, was extremely rude.

But then Gevanni takes it way too far; I forget about Mihael's rude remark in microseconds. Poof. Just like that.

Because what Gevanni said, makes my heart ache, my stomach twisted painful, and depression choked in my throat.

And what gets me, was Mihael's eyes. Mihael's cold, cold, beautiful eyes turning to a sad, depressed pool of blue.

"Going great, Keehl, How's alcoholics anonymous?" a twisted grin curls on Gevanni's face.

Mihael gives a wince. He doesn't move, and his face turns to a horrified surprise.

Only the ice eyes move. They grow smaller to a sad reflection.

Mihael was destroyed.

And I was killed once more inside.

I think I just grew attached to Mihael Keehl.

This world, _my_ world, is nothing but pain, plain pain and suffering.

Watching something beautiful fall, was part of it.


	5. Chapter 5: Inception

**TW: **Slight mention of alcohol, rude slurs towards homosexuality.

This chapter might suck, I admit, I can't write well.

I don't own Death Note.

* * *

><p>Autumns ending frost, nibbled at my cheeks, making them tattered and scratchy. I shivered unendingly, as I stood with crossed arms, alone in the school's driveway. Great, Halle's late. Again. I tried ringing her up once more, but the woman didn't pick up. I sighed and cursed, and began to gloomily walk up the sidewalk away from the high school. This is bullshit, I have to get home, with the heap of homework I have. Man, I'm fucking busy. My heart thumped, randomly remembering my beloved prince charming. There would be no time for finding out who he is, and I wanted that more than anything. Well, besides him in general. I grunted and shivered all the way to central downtown, my boots clanking against the asphalt tiredly. I was still hugging myself to keep warmth, admitting on the inside that I should've listened to Halle when she said I should dress more warm.<p>

I mean honestly, What got into me this morning?

It's almost the end of fucking November, which means it's gonna get really fucking cold in New York City.

My teeth started to chatter, and I cursed myself once more.

This sucked.

Suddenly, my phone started to vibrate in my jacket pocket. Finally.

It has to be Halle. I moved my frost bitten fingers over to the pocket slit, carefully took the phone out, and flipped it back.

"Y-e-M-Mom?" I chattered.

"Hey, sweetie, I can't pick you up today... Work is busy as shit." she groaned sympathetically.

"Y-e-Ye-a, K-kind-a fi-igur-ed-d" I shook from the cold, again.

"Are you already walking home, hun?" Halle asked. I heard some random lady laugh in the background, and the copier at work.

"Y-y-ea-h... I'm not e-eve-n c-c-close to-o ho-om-me." I groaned as my teeth clacked and clicked through words.

"Where are you? And I told you to dress warmer didn't I?" she sighed, tapping keyboard keys in the background.

"W-we-ell, ce-cent-t-tral M-m-man-ha-hat-ten o-of c-course..." I rolled my eyes. There is no way she thought I was at least a mile away from Whammy Prep.

"Oh, sorry baby, I thought you had already took the sub to Bronx..." Halle sounded a bit distant, as I heard her stacking paper atop a desk in the background. It was so loud and thick, that I knew there had to be more than one hundred papers in that packet.

"W-e-ll i-i-t's co-cold a-a-as shi-t t-t-o be the-er-e a-already." I grunted in shiver.

"Lord, okay, tell you what, how much homework do you have? If you walk at this rate you'd be home at six-"

"I h-h-have a-a-a h-h-heap!" I almost sneezed.

Fuck! I did not want to be sick. I did not want to stay home and drink cheap cherry tasting medicine and eat half cooked chicken ramen, and blow my nose into tissues that actually hurt my nose even more, a head ache from watching early Spanish soap opera's, over thinking the fact that I have so much homework, by now.

And this time, it would mean staying away from Charming.

I can't live without looking at his face at least once a day.

Yeah, there was no way I was getting sick, and if I kept this pace up, there was a large possibility I would. I prayed Halle would let me stay somewhere cozy, until she was able to pick me up.

And guess what? Prayer granted. This was too good to be true. I sighed in relief as she made her deal over on the other line;

"A heap? Baby, there should be Starbucks around the corner, it's the one I usually get my morning coffee from after I drop you off at school. Go there, and do your homework, and I'll be there around five. I promise, they'll give me a fifteen minute break to go there and drive you home, alright?" she sounded parched for some reason.

I nodded, "O-o-ka-ay, I s-s-see t-t-he s-s-ig-n-n." It was closer than I imagined.

Hallelujah, it was just a few stores and corners a way.

"Bye, honey." she hung up before I could give her my teeth clacking salutation.  
>When I walked in, It was pretty full.<p>

Rushing employees hurrying to make people orders, coffee machines beeping, and some syrupy Indie song playing over the store.

Quickly scanning the tables over, I made my way over to a free spot to work on my hill of homework. There were a few single tables open along the big glass window, so I dropped the loaded backpack down by the tall glazed wooden chair, and sat down in stretch, relieved I finally got all the rock weight off my shoulders. I stretched my arms across the steel circle table, and nestled my chin in the open space between my biceps. I gazed up tiredly at the menu, stomach empty. I had no money, so I couldn't get a coffee or pastry. I sighed and closed my eyes for a moment before I had to work on bullshit homework.

__Ugh__. When I flicked them back open, something caught my eye in a landslide, and pounced my heart at least twelve feet up.

Snowy white hair. It's him. My heart was out of control. It was only the back of his pretty head, and it was pounding hard and loose through my chest one million miles per hour. I felt the bright red rush burst across my cheeks once more.

Again, another perfect movie moment. How? The unknown indie song had come to and end, and a familiar strummed guitar melody as soon as my eyes locked with his white wavy head full of hair.

He's here. It had to be destiny, my heart sang, its beat with wanting, inpatient angst. He was standing in line, reading the menu, a roll of cash tugged between his petite, perfect, skinny fingers. A goofy infatuated smile crossed my face. __He's here. __I kept staring at him, just watching his big pretty eyes wander across the menu. It was calming watching every move he made.

I didn't quite catch what he ordered. I was curious in every little move he made, what he got, what he said. He was like something I need to watch, something so interesting, a force pulling me in to always have my eyes on him. I watched him walk over to the end table where you had to pick up orders. He was finally at an angle where I can look at his soft lips.

And when I least expect it.

He turns around to find my eyes. Right in his.

My heart explodes, and I can't look down. My eyes are glued to his.

And his eyes were glued to mine.

He looked at me, as if he knew me. As if he knew me for years.

His eyes trail back to his table and he walks to a table right diagonally across from mine, with no other sitting across him, Stephen Gevanni.

Fuck.

His mouth moves, and says something to Gevanni, his eyes glancing for a microsecond back at me. The soft love song ends, and I can't hear him over the current rock song.

I look down at my Trigonometry for a little and glance up at my favorite person, (sarcasm,) Gevanni.

He's glaring at me with Satan eyes. Of course.

I roll my eyes back over to Trigonometry.

A few minutes of glancing back and forth from homework, then to Gevanni and Prince, they seemed to be having a conversation that seemed pretty mundane to me, judging by the shape of Prince's mouth, even though Gevanni looked as if he was in an argument.

Though Gevanni always looks like he's in an argument when he talks, so we'll never know.

After another five minutes of chatting, Gevanni finally gets up and stretches and I can finally make up what he's saying;

"Do you want some banana bread? I feel like having some."

Charming says something back but he's still way too quiet for me to hear him something.

He takes a laptop out of a backpack and powers it on, and Gevanni shoves some papers and red pens onto the table.

And I just sit. Quietly, glancing at Prince Charming, trying to do Trigonometry. Basically, _not working_. So I start to pretend I look all smart and dedicated to my homework in case Charming decides to look back over at me.

I hear Gevanni let out a flirting giggle, and my heart stops with angst.

__They're dating, aren't they? __tears start sting the back of my eyes.

Or maybe it was just me. I mean, I always jump to the negatives. It was part of depression.

I start to observe again, mentally crossing my fingers that I was wrong. Oh, and mentally slicing Gevanni up with a machete.

I still have my violent tenth grader thoughts.

Don't worry they used to be much worse than Saw movies before my meds, so at least the pills are actually controlling _something_.

Gevanni gets out a power cord for a laptop and plugs it in under the table, and looks at the line. "Long line, I'll go take a piss."

He leaves for the bathroom, so I start to stare at Prince again.

After a while I can't help but blush and look back down.

__Focus.__

__Focus.__

But my heart replies: __Nope__.

So now, I'm not actually even attempting to do my Trigonometry, I'm just staring meaninglessly at a diagram in the textbook without a blink, random thoughts rambling on in my head without answer, nonstop;

__He is so beautiful. But, him and GEVANNI? That's not going to work out. Gevanni's a hot head. At least I think he is. Maybe they're just friends. How come Gevanni's hasn't said Charming's name so far? Couples love to say their names right? So like, they're only friends then. I wonder if he has a piano teacher. Cos he's amazing. Is he gay? Is he straight? Bi? Pan? What if he isn't attracted to people like me? What if he hates me? Does he think I'm ugly? What if he approaches me, when Gevanni's gone? What am I gonna say? What if I throw up on his clothes, because I'll get nervous? What the fuck?__

And from some scary miracle, Prince stands up, and my stomach drops so low, I feel like I want to puke up blood.

__HE'S COMING, OH MY GOD, HE'S COMING OVER, HERE, LOOK ATTRACTIVE.__

Though I do nothing to look attractive. I don't fix my hair or change my position. I just sit frozen because I'm scared petrified.

All I do is awkwardly tap my pencil. Nothing else to see here.

My mind is a dabble of all sorts of shit screaming at the top of their lungs. I prayed for him to come over and talk to me. I prayed for him to leave so I can breathe again.

I glance back up on where he's actually going, and I see him stop right about five feet across from me at the supply kiosk, and take out a plastic spoon.

I start to breathe again, heavily in relief.

I still silently observe him.

He stuffs it in his pocket.

And then.

I notice a tiny speckle of shine on the floor. My heart flutters.

He dropped something.

I stare at it for a moment, my heart beating heavily with pressure.

It's Metro change, and a few coins.

Shit! He dropped some of his money!

Fuck it. I slowly picked it up.

Breathe.

Breathe. Breathe.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Go.

"Excuse me."

Holy shit. I did it. I did it. I said it. Oh my god.

I regretted even opening my mouth.

No.

Holy shit. I did it.

He turned around to face me.

My heart is about to explode.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Hindu Cow.

Instead of trying my best to keep calm, I still feel my face blush a little.

Again, I pray. I pray it isn't so noticeable.

"You dropped some of money." I held the coins out in my palm.

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

Breathe.

"Oh, I'm sorry." he walked back towards me.

I didn't know why I didn't prepare myself to hear his voice. It just unexpectedly came out.

Everything was happening so fast.

Was it supposed to be like this?

I have planed at least a thousand versions of this scene in my head. None of them were alike. Everything was just shot out at me, just like that. In a snap. Nothing rehearsed or pre-planned. _It was happening way too fast._

It was only after my Prince Charming talked, I realized I heard his cute voice for the first time. It wasn't the most normal voice in the world either.

It was interesting. Of course, like the rest of him.

It was somehow ghastly, grim... cold, and at the same time cute, and passionate.

It was intensely odd, but in a good way.

It was the best voice ever.

And only then, did I conclude, that this cute, ghostly voice fit him perfectly.

My mind wandered through various interesting theories about Charming. Why was his voice so distant, and cold, while so darn cute? Was he hiding something? What's this tone he's using?

No normal person could have this kind of voice, and that was what made him extremely irresistible from the mysteries that glowed right off of him.

Was he depressed, too? Was he scared? Was he suspicious? Was he angry, at me?

This was the best feeling. I wanted to get inside his mind.

With my heart pounding hard in my chest, I decided to stand up and meet him half way with courage. I open my mouth once more, a bit wary and scared, but at the same time reborn, alive.

"No, it's fine, don't say sorry, I just didn't want you to lose your money, especially in _New York City_." I said.

__Shit! Did that turn out too weird? It kinda sounded cheesy. __I quickly recovered it with shooting him a friendly, breathed out smile.

"Thank you." he smiled kindly, but not at me (which makes my stomach drop low), he just looked down and smiled at his held out palm, gesturing for me to place his money there.

His palm was so amazingly detailed. Pale creases, light blue veins, textured within white skin. I wanted to hold his hand, for probably, the rest of my life.

I dropped them carefully into his palm. My heart was going wild.

This is actually happening.

Breathe.

Breathe.

"I actually live here, I go to your school, too." he laughed, friendly

What? He knew who I was? He knew that I went to Whammy?

I was morbidly shocked, but then again… the publicity stunt me, Light and Mikami pulled in December.

I wanted to run and hide, and bag my face with the paper ones they gave out for to-go orders, when I realized that he might've acknowledged me because of my stupid, stupid mistake last year.

I try to ignore the subject.

Hindu Cow.

You know, Keehl, just act casual.

But no. I had blurt out something that sounded pretty weird.

"Oh, I know! I know who you are! You go to Whammy… I mean, if you still live here , it's still the same, you __really __don't wanna lose anything." I giggled, looking down at my boots.

That sounded so fucking stupid.  
>God, I hate myself so much.<p>

He controlled me, this badly.

Breathe. Breathe.

Oh my god, this is actually happening.

"Ah, didn't know you knew me. Cool. Learned that I'm not too invisible, today." he smiled cocky and sadistic, but with friendly eyes. My heart jumps up again. That was one _sexy_ smile.

Wait. Let's just rewind, what he just told me.

'Didn't know __you __knew me'?

I didn't fucking know __you __actually knew me!

I wanted to tell him, that he was the only person in the world that walks with a spotlight around in my eyes, but I tried to control myself.

I wanted to know so much more.

Breathe, breathe.

"NATE!" That same familiar annoying voice popped up.

Nate?

Nate.

Nate.

__Bu-dump!__

It's Nate.

So, his name was Nate. Nate. Nate.

I said it over, twelve billion more times.

'Prince Charming' is moved into the Waste Bin of my mind, and replaced with 'Nate.'

Forever. __Engraved__, definitely.

Nate.

_What a beautiful name to match his beautiful face and personality._

Though the other hemisphere of my brain, complained, from disturbance.

Fuck.

Didn't your mother ever tell you it was rude, to interrupt, _Slaughter_?

Nate and I saw, an aggravated, Gevanni, shrugging his arms open in disbelief, hands full with a bag of banana bread.

"I... uh... gotta go" he trailed.

__Bu-dump!__

"Wa-" Wait! I tried to say, but all that came out was. "Okay."

_Don't go._

I just had a conversation with the love of my life.

Did that really just happen?

Oh my god, it did.

There I was, standing, thrilled, in the aftermath of being talked to by the most perfect boy I've ever seen in my life.

And it felt, __so __good.

"OH, YEAH, UM HEY, WHATSUP, MIHAEL." Gevanni called over at me, clenching his teeth.

Hindu Cow.

Nate's not looking. I could be mean. I had to turn my attention to Gevanni now.

I was the popular kid with the least history with Gevanni, but I guess, my history is about to begin, curve, tumble, then really, be confirmed _history_.

I needed him out of my way.

And I __knew__, Nate's boyfriend or not, Gevanni was going to try to get Nate away from me.

Why? Because I'm popular. And Gevanni? He hated that.

I nod in played outrage, mocking a polite tone, "Hey, Gevanni, if you'll excuse me I'll get back to my homework now, but let me know if Anger Management is working, later." I sit down, and dig back into my Trigonometry.

"Alright, Keehl, let me know how Alcoholics Anonymous is, too."

No more Hindu Cows.

Rage.

Sudden, automatic, rage.

Striking deep rage.

I yank my head back up to face him, giving him my outrage. It's the least I should have done, giving him the satisfaction he gained my attention, and hurt me, but I couldn't control my anger, either.

I don't say anything. I'm too shocked, too scared.

Speechless to the outburst.

He stuck his tongue out.

I just look back down, trying my best to look casual again, trying my fucking best to ignore him by solving problem number forty-two.

Hoping, praying, Nate didn't overhear, or see.

I knew, that he probably knew about December, (everyone knew,) but bringing that back up, hits me like a baseball bat, hard, in the gut. In the heart. And I'm a pinata.

Gevanni was the baseball bat.

POW!

Then, everything I tried to forget, everything I tried to control, and everything I tried to ignore to keep sanity, blows back out into seven billion different fucking pieces, scattered again. I try to pick them up. But they all drop and slip out of my hands. I want to bury my face into my palms, and just sob.

No.

But.

I've tried so hard.

To forget.

Pulverized, I try to keep my developing tears in. As much as I can.

Depression clogs back into me. Deeply.

_December._

If he only knew, how much that hurt. How serious that was.

I wail inside,

__Cunt__.

* * *

><p>Days blurred into a collage of the same tainted gray images: shoving the pill down my throat each morning, in Halle's car, driving to school, staring out at the dusky morning sky as I lean my cheek onto the frosty glass of the window, faking smiles all day, and then arriving at about five from after school activities to do a white boring palette of homework.<p>

Just replaying Nate's petite, pretty face in my mind was my only color.

The week was a flat note, and when thinking of Nate's face, it was then an abstract note that had expanded to a beautiful melody.

I sit, my thoughts overflowing of Nate in Pre Calc, staring at the clock with a vicious glare to end the last hour of the school day.

All I have is football next, then it's the fucking weekend.

Light sits behind me being an annoying cunt, kicking his new cleats against the back of my chair and whispering his hot, potato chip breath into my ear.

"Do you think my new cleats will make me faster? Do you think my new kicks are cool dude, man this class sucks ass, right? Ugh, the bell should ring right fucking now. I need to show my stardom out on the field already... Dude? Dude?"

I stay completely still and mute because I don't want to look at Light and I don't want to talk to Light.

I have never, ever, wanted to punch anybody this hard in my entire life.

_Because if I had it my way, I'd slit your throat with the knife that you left in my back!_

My stomach sank and twisted.

No. We're not going to count that one.

Why is he so excited about new cleats? I get new cleats every month, and I don't give a flying fuck, they don't suddenly magically improve my speed or performance.

I mean, Light was more of a four year old than a sixteen going on seventeen so this was no surprise.

Eventually the bell rings and all clogged up feeling of wanting to let go and get out of the stuffed hot room flows out of my muscles, and echoes with the screech of the metal legs of classroom chairs being pushed in and out, and binders snapping to go.

The sound of rush and freedom.

A quick announcement was made by the Mr. Riue, broadcasting that Football Practice and the first Indoor Track Meet starts right after school today.

Light grabbed my shoulder, and I glanced back at him for whatever the hell he wants.

"What, man?"

I notice Light's in his varsity jacket. Soft white sleeves, white buttons, navy blue torso, the red scruffy in thread 'WNY.' My thoughts cut him off before he can even say anything about his new stupid fucking cleats.

"Were we supposed to wear those today...?" I bulged my eyes out in forgetful shock at him.

"Yeah, why?" his tone was a bit weary.

"I left mine in my gym locker right after I got it... Shit. I'll have to go get it now..."

He frowned. "Want me to go with you?"

"It's fine, it'll only take a few minutes, I'll jog down there anyway," I swung my backpack off my shoulder and gestured it toward him, "Take my backpack down to the field?"

"Sure, but just to let you off as a warning, if you have any chips or cola in there, I'm stealing it." he yanks it out of my hand with a mischievous grin, and hangs it on his wrist, curling his hand up so the strand doesn't slip off.

"Whatever, just don't touch the chocolate, or I'll fucking kill you." I warned, and ran off to the staircase.

Once I'm on the first floor, I turn the corner and go down to the locker rooms, only for my heart to have a skip a beat in front of the boys' locker room entry.

My eyes widened.

"Hey, what're you doing here, little twerp?"

"Oh yeah, that's right, get out of here, this is the __boys __locker room."

"In case you haven't noticed, people who like boys go to the _girls_ locker room."

"Look at his eyes, he also looks like a chick. It's sad."

Laughter echoes afterward. My fists clench so badly, that my nails start to pinch into my skin.

Four guys I didn't know from indoor track, stood in front of the boys locker room entry, and shoved a kid half their size around. Pushing him back.

The kid I was in love with.

They were pushing Nate around. My Nate.

"Stop it, just let me go in, I have track! You guys are being ridiculous!" he finally urges out of his mouth.

"Hear that? He thinks _we're_ being ridiculous, we'll here's the newsflash, _man shall not lie with man, it's an abomination_." one says with a cocky laugh.

They all laugh again, and push Nate.

As much as my brain was scribbling with anger and hate, the other side was scrabbling a few thoughts. What I was hearing; I didn't really get it at first.

After the laughter and small shoves die down, Nate speaks up again in a pissed off mutter, "So is your face, but you don't see me complaining."

I cover my mouth not to burst out laughing.

You've got this Nate. You've got this. I love you. You can do this. Kick their asses.

"What did you just say to me you little shit?" the guy who used the Bible reference, pushes Nate into the wall across from them with a slam.

Nate winces from the pain.

"Whoa, whoa, calm down, we don't want to get suspended, Celyn!" The other three try to pin him back from Nate.

"Let's just leave him alone!"

I watch Nate rub his hit shoulder.

Why am I not doing anything?

"No! This little cunt wants to be a smart ass with me, he'll get what he deserves!" Celyn bursts out of his friends' hand chains and grips Nate's shoulders.

__Why am I not doing anything?__

"HEY!" I round the corner and snarl.

Their heads all swing back at my direction, all their eyes widen big, and scared.

Nate's eyes were more surprised than scared.

My stomach twists with nerves.

"Get the fuck away from him." I drawl.

"Whoa, whoa, sorry, Keehl, we meant no harm!" they back away slowly with arms up.

"Oh yeah? Why the hell won't you let him go in? He has track, why are holding him up?" I narrow my eyes at them, and step in front of Nate.

"Jeez, Sorry – Whatever we'll go now! –– Sorry Mihael, sorry Nate..." Celyn flusters from my glare.

I roll my eyes at them and turn to Nate once they clear the hallway.

"Hey... Are you okay?" I feel a small rush at my face, I just can't help to control it.

My heartbeat starts to fasten up again. I'm facing him. His onyx eyes staring right into mine again, but this time with a thankful gleam. I gulp the nervous lump in my throat.

"Yeah... Thank you. That really meant a lot to me." a smile crosses his face.

It looked... real.

Compared to all the smiles he shot on Wednesday, this one was the most real I have ever seen so far, and it was making my heart flutter more than usual.

And I wanted to tell him. Tell him how we were so alike when we were obviously different in so many ways. A yin yang. Black and white.

But it would take a lifetime to explain to him how much we seemed to belong together.

Plus, he'd probably freak the fuck out that some guy he met for the second time, wants to marry him. So, I just bring up the second most wanted answered question at the top of my head.

"Why were they being complete fucking assholes to you like that?" I tried to be angry and demanding but I let out another breath with a small laugh trailing after it. It was just too impossible to be mad right in front of his adoring eyes.

With the in-love-stalker creep that I was, I estimate how far apart are faces are right now; four inches. Which seemed like fucking forty unbearable miles.

"Well, I'd tell you but, you'd probably treat me the same way after you find out." his smile transformed into a cocky, teasing one. It grew a few millimeters as he saw my face being shocked in disgust to his answer.

Nate was sadistic. Wasn't he? My mouth twitched to a smile as well after I had realized this at the back of my mind.

"I'd never do that!" I whined in an offended tone and flicked his shoulder, because I was scared to playfully shove him.

"Promise?" he raised his eyebrows.

"Promise."

Nate looked down for a second and then back up right into my eyes. His onyx color flickered with innocence and shyness, but his mouth was calm and curled a bit snobby.

"Um," he bit his lip, and my heart sprang from how sexy he looked, then he proceeded to part his lips to continue the rest of his confession;

"I'm gay."


	6. Chapter 6: Break

**TW:** Slight mention of drug use

I don't own Death Note, woo-hoo.

I like this chapter. Near is so adorable.

* * *

><p>"That's really cool."<p>

Wasn't what I expected out of Mihael Keehl's mouth.

In a second my heart jumped from either the shocking kindness he was showing towards me, some invisible, gay, depressed, hopeless loser or how perfect and stunningly handsome, and breathtakingly beautiful Mihael Keehl was when he gave a warm smile.

His cheeks tint a little fuzzy pink, and his lips are smooth.

And my heart melts.

I don't have a chance in Hell, but I'm going to like you anyway.

Deal?

Yeah, deal.

My thoughts speed out of my mouth as if I was now a crushed-ice dispenser those fancy refrigerators have. My words were just coming out broken, and scratched because I was so surprised, that a popular kid, wait, no, not just a popular kid, but the king of the school, and probably the most beautiful guy who goes here, isn't treating me like the homosexual scum I usually was referred to.

"W-W-What? R-Really? What's the catch?"

His smile grew even larger, and he let out a breath with a cute, soft laugh caught in it.

"There's no catch. It's cool that you're gay… I just didn't know you were, so I was surprised."

My eyebrows raised to ceiling, "Are you being serious right now? The whole school knows I'm gay… Well, half , the half that went to Nelson middle, anyway." I slumped down against the wall. I'm so dizzy from the stun Mihael is giving me right now.

"I didn't go to Nelson middle… I went to Keith... Well, almost three years ago, anyway." he giggled and sat down next to me.

"Don't a lot of popular people talk a lot of shit about stuff like this?" I looked down a bit shy, and kicked my ked against the floor, scraping it.

"Yeah, but, if it makes you feel any better.., I don't talk shit. I just listen to it because a lot of kids hover around me. And, trust me, it's a lot of bullshit. Like, who the fuck cares, you know? It's high school. They all love to talk bullshit because they're too bored to do anything else. The shit they talk wont even matter once you're out of here, and fuck, why should it matter now?" he shook my shoulder in support.

My heart was skipping beats. I liked his fingertips.

I wanted more of his fingertips.

I wanted to throw myself at him and hug him, because I'm pretty sure he's my new hero. But it would be too awkward, and I'm pretty sure in my status, I'm not even allowed to touch Mihael Keehl. This was dream wasn't it? Here is the most popular kid in school giving me some inspirational mini speech that made perfect sense. Hell, it gave me sense. It kicked Gevanni's Popular Anarchy guide out of my head, probably for the rest of my life now.

He made _sense_.

Why should I care?

It's not like all these kids will care when they graduate and get on with their lives.

Why didn't I just think about that before?

Was it brainwash? Was I stubborn? Was I too depressed to pay attention?

He understands.

He was supposed to understand anyway, because last year, Winter time, it had to be hard on him.

It still is.

It still is…

Gevanni.

"Mihael?" I popped out of my thought bubble; "Yeah?" he blinked, giving all attention.

My heart warmed when I noticed he's actually _listening_ to me.

"I'm really sorry what Gevanni said the other day, he was a real ass for doing that. I'm really, really, sorry. He does need anger management… what he said was way out of line, and I apologize for that from the bottom of my heart… It was a terrible thing to say considering what horrible stuff happened to you last year…" I think my lip even quivered from the last part.

Last year, it was hard for both of us and I felt his pain, considering him being rumored in a mental hospital for months, and I lost my mother.

"It's okay, don't apologize for something you didn't do." Mihael shot another warm smile at me again.

"Well… I have to go and get my Varsity Jacket, then get my ass to football… and I'm pretty sure you're late for track…" he said, a bit awkwardly.

Mihael stretched out his legs and got up, brushing the dirt off the back of his pants.

Ah. He probably didn't want to talk to me anymore.

_Why do I have to be so boring and dumb?_

I shook the thought out of my head, he was too nice to do that, right?

I hauled myself up as well, rolling my shoulders back.

"I'm sorry…" I said again. I didn't know how to act anymore. My depression was coming back to me.

"Don't say sorry. Stop saying sorry."

"Sorry."

Mihael comes up closer to me, and my heart starts racing a gazillion miles per hour because my imagination isn't controlling itself and it's dreaming that he's going to give me a kiss.

He bops me on top of the head.

His thumbs gingerly lace over my lips and he whispers to me, looking straight into my eyes, with his ice determined flames,

"Don't ever, _ever_, say the word 'sorry' to me, ever again."

I couldn't breathe so nothing came out in response.

I gulped.

"Got that?"

I nod slowly. He takes a step back from me.

"Good… I'll see you around, Nate…" he gave me his signature warm smile, (that would probably beat the goddamn sun in a landslide,) and opened the Varsity Football Team's locker room and disappeared.

I finally caught my breath.

I think just started crushing _really_ hard on the legendary Mihael Keehl.

No.

No.

I'm going to ignore my feelings, it would slow down my running if I over thought about it so much. I decided it was time to be a zombie, or a robot, or the new Mexican exchange student that doesn't know English one bit and doesn't give a damn to communicate with the other American Scum around him.

I pulled the Boys Locker Room door, and went into the musk of spice deodorants, and the sweat smell of sour cream, mixed in with that stale laundry softener. Sometimes, the smell of men made me wonder why the hell I was gay. I mean girls smell like flowers, and candy, and nice shampoo, while guys just smell like an eight day old sock.

Not Mihael Keehl, though.

My lips somehow automatically curled into a smile. I kicked off my keds and started to tie up my running cleats while his image rushed into my mind. The one where he got closer to me. I caught a tiny whiff of his neck.

It smelt like wine and strawberries, chocolate, and a musk of a vaguely familiar incense I couldn't quite remember. And his shirt, it smelt like just done laundry. His mom (or dad, or whoever does his laundry, really,) must put a lot of fabric softener in there, and it makes him smell so good mixed into his cologne.

I shook the thoughts out of my head again.

No, I didn't want to fall in love with someone I can't have.

I don't want to be even more crushed inside than I already am.

I went with my usual plan to stop thinking about Mihael.

I mean what's the point of liking him? He's not going to like me back anyway so why even bother?

Why bother?

* * *

><p>"Nate, listen to me when I'm talking to you."<p>

"Nate!"

I snapped out of my daydream.

"Sorry, what?" I said drowsily sounding a bit stoned.

"Do you even care? God! I'm supposed to be your best friend."

"Uh-huh." I said, barely into what Gevanni was saying.

"You're not listening! Are you on drugs?! Did that asshole Mihael Keehl give you Chronic or something?! I'll kill him!" he slammed his hand on my desk. I jump.

"N-No! I'm not on drugs! Mihael was just pep-talking me…"

"More like drug dealing you! Don't be lying, you're on drugs! Normal people don't act act this way, Nate!" Gevanni takes my Time magazine, twists it up into a bat, and bumps me on the head with it. It gave a loud snap.

"Damn it, Gevanni that kind of hurt…"

"_Good!_"

"Why are you so caught up with me just having a slight crush on him anyway…" I mumbled, trying to go back to staring at my Pre-Calc problems.

"Be-_cause!_" he blunted, "I don't want you to go for this guy! He's a piece of shit! A douche! And I don't want you heartbroken, he's not going to go for you! He's Mihael Keehl he probably eats out the cheerleaders almost everyday." he rolls his eyes.

"Cut it out, Gevanni! He's not like that!" I got so angry, I actually started raising my voice. I never raised my voice.

"Really? Or do you forget bipolar people, like Mihael, have different personalities?!"

"He's nice and I know it." I bulged my eyes in annoyance trying to focus on my homework.

Gevanni sighs and drops himself down with a generous bouncing slam on my bed.

"Fine. BUT, don't forget I will be rubbing it into your face when he, someday, will reject you. Because Gevanni's got you, Gevanni knows best-"

I cut him off.

I was fuming.

"_NO_, you know what? _NO_. Gevanni, you _don't_ got me. You just want me to do things based on what _you_ think, so just drop it! When's the last time we did something _I _want? Huh? Or something _I_ said?! When's the last time you took _my_ advice, or took what I said and accepted it?! Just leave it alone! So what? I have a tiny crush on Mihael, oh well! I can't control how I feel! I don't care what you even think anymore, Gevanni!" I slammed the textbook closed, and grabbed my head in anger, pulling my locks.

"Because you are a starving little lamb, Nate! I try to help you because I love you! You're needy. You were fucking adopted for Christ sakes, your mother died, and your father is barely a father anymore. You need someone to take care of you."

"Well, that someone should be Mihael Keehl." I mumbled loud enough for him to hear.

"What." Gevanni jerks, hissing the aftermath of the 't.'

"Nothing..." I mumble again.

"No, what the _fuck_ did you just say, Nate?!"

"I want Mihael instead of you! Happy now? Because I've only known him for ten minutes and so far he understands me better than you!"

Gevanni's tears rise. I gulped, guilty at the sight.

"Okay. Fine. Just forget that ONE night Nate. That one night I saved your ass. Was Mihael Keehl there? No! _I_ was there. It was _me_! And it was real! If it wasn't me – You'd be fucking dead." he spits the last sentence in a grim, slow, voice.

My voice jerks and stops from saying anything else. Anything else insensitive.

Gevanni deserved so much better than what I had just yelled at him for the past five minutes.

He saved my life. What the hell was I doing?

"Gevanni – I'm so sor-" my voice starts to jerk.

"Fuck you!" he sobs, slinging on his back pack on his right shoulder.

And there goes the slam of my door that silences the screaming.

And I sob so loud, you can't hear the music Matsuda's playing downstairs anymore.


	7. Chapter 7: Intuition

THIS IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE CHAPTERS GHhoYDHAF

**TW:** I honestly don't think there is any, but, PM me if anything in this chapter made you uncomfortable, and I'll fix that shit up.

I don't own Death Note. nuuuu~

* * *

><p>After I convinced myself Nate befriended me, he possessed my thoughts even more. Now, this wasn't fairy tales and day dreams anymore. It was real. It was fucking real. It felt real, because we had a relationship now. The friend, relationship anyway.<p>

I'm sure of that.

There might have actually been a chance now.

I've met him.

He met me.

We knew each other.

It was real. It was perfect.

I slept badly too, my mind skipping over all the ways I can find him again. And talk to him.

There were so many anxious doubts and thoughts as well. Gevanni keeping Nate away from me, or waking up the next day only find out he didn't like me anymore. Or that he never even considered me as a friend. Or that he found someone else. That he was taken.

Oh the fucking fear, that he was taken.

That made my blood cringe. It was so easy for him too, he's so beautiful, fit, he smells nice, he is __nice__.

I love him.

But I couldn't help but think something miraculous was going to happen – hope won over all these doubts.

Next morning, Mail was blabbing on about some new first person shooter I didn't quite catch the name of, and I didn't really give a fuck about.

Why?

Nate.

Nate. Nate. Nate.

Where he was, what he was doing, what was happening.

I don't know. Just fast speedy thoughts.

Today, I talked fast. Today, I was fucking full of myself automatically. Today, my thoughts were uncontrollable. Everything was.

But the main thought of finding him again stayed.

My day was overall, just morbidly boring. Hamlet, _again_ in English for the billionth time, the bitter taste of German, and the smell of fast food and half-fresh salad at lunch. I wasn't hungry, I was busy just _thinking_. Thinking about _him_.

I ate a few pieces of chocolate I had stashed up in my locker, and Light gave me his Brownie bar. As much as I want Light to be soaked in a pool of lemon juice with paper cuts all over his body, I'd suck a hobo's dick for one of those Brownie bars. They were my _weakness_.

I didn't give a fuck that it was Light Imagay's offering, I didn't give a fuck what kind of day it was, if I was full or how much I didn't want to eat, I still swallowed those scrumptious things whole.

After lunch I just went on to more boring teachers, of boring classes of boring grades of boring fucking everything ever made.

But the miracle happened.

"Yo, can you walk with me to the Orchestra room to put my guitar away?" Mail slammed his locker, case in left hand.

His face was bored.

I immediately thought of Nate.

Nate might have been there there.

What if?

Intuition.

"Definitely" I gave him a toothy grin.

You can here the faint sound of instruments clashing together. Like different languages speaking at the same time, in great melody. I can't hear a piano. My stomach drops from disappointment.

We I crawl over to the corner of the orchestra room. The resting place for Mail's guitar. And I look back to take a peek.

I shiver even though the air is warm from the daytime sun and moist from the nighttime rain. I feel as if the shivers were coming from the thought of finally seeing Nate again.

I look inside the small window as if, it was a little delicate glass box that held my future. And once again.

I spot the snowy hair.

My heart skips beats and I forget how to breathe. I feel a little dizzy, the oxygen sticks in my throat and forgets to travel to my brain.

The science of attraction.

"What are you doing?"

I snapped.

Mail laughs, "You're holding the wall as if you're undercover, don't worry you're not going to get in trouble, just get the fuck in."

Duh. What the fuck was I doing?

And so we went in, the adrenaline rushing like a bitch.

My stomach going down like the fucking Titanic.

I couldn't take my eyes off of his back and his hair.

Moonlight Sonata.

Mail goes to the back room to put away his guitar, not noticing that it was Nate on the piano.

Perfect timing. We're alone.

I slowly come up behind him.

I purse my lips. He's closing his eyes, just playing the song away like there was nothing else to do in the world but play the song.

The rage of jealousy fills up my brain, while my heart stumbled for him, thinking how fucking amazing he was.

He was perfect.

"Hey."

Nate jolts. And he turns. His eyes turning wide.

"Hey!" he smiles, "What are you doing here?"

Oh god, I am going to end up fucking this up. He looks cuter than ever.

"My friend needed to put away his guitar..." I said, balancing my weight from heel to toe.

"Ah, I see..." he trailed, looking down.

You're losing him! This is going to be awkward, do something!

Breathe.

"So... I play piano too."

Nate's head pops back up, engaged, "Really?" his mouth is a cute surprised oval.

"I had no idea, I guess you are perfect as they say you are." he laughs.

My stomach lurches and the hottest rush comes to my face.

Fuck.

"I'm... really not. You play Moonlight Sonata.,. really, really well. You're the perfect one." I told him, "I just... wanted to ask you, can you teach me this part I keep messing up on?"

Nate blinked, wide eyed.

"Y-yeah, sure, of course!" he insisted.

I smile.

Nate scoots over on the chair. "Sit." he gives me back a little cute half-smile.

"I thought I'd just watch?"

"No. My piano teacher does this method, and it works the best, trust me."

"W-what method?"

"I'll show you. Sit." he giggled.

I sit down cautiously as if the seat was a land mine.

"Okay, what part are you stuck on?"

I play the part. It's broken, raspy, it has a few messed up keys.

Fucking fuck.

I feel the rush comeback to my face again. It's the embarrassment of being imperfect in front of the most perfect person in the world.

It's like flicking off the Queen Of England.

"I see, that part is really tricky he says."

"Ye-"

"Bye man!" Mail comes out of the guitar room, and waves to me, smiling this cocky grin.

He gives me a wink and I want to kill him right on the spot.

"Have fun!" he mocks.

"Bye." I mumble.

I turn back to Nate and eye him a "sorry."

"As I was saying... yeah I've been working on it for months, but it just wont come out right. My piano teacher always just tells me to practice more instead of really teaching it to me, you know?" I explained.

"I see." he nodded, "Okay, so," He begins,

And the unthinkable happens, his little hand wraps around mine.

My heart completely stops.

I think I died.

I don't know.

I think I'm waking up from a really good dream.

But this dream keeps on going. And he drags my hand to the right keys. His hand tugs at my ring finger, and he starts to press his fingertips onto the top of my fingers, and pressing them onto the correct keys. Slowly one by one.

"See, like this."

Da. Da. Da. Da. Da. Dum. Da. The keys ring.

Bubumbumbumbumbum. My hear goes.

His rushing fingertips against my fingers, was the best feeling.

I'm speechless. I don't say one thing.

And we repeat this part, more than twenty times.

It was about fifteen minutes of our hands linked together.

It was about fifteen minutes I was dead.

"Do you get it now?"

I love you, Nate.

And I wasn't paying attention to anything but our hands linked.

Though. You taught me.

"Thank you." I finally say.

"You don't have to thank me," he gave a giggled huff, "Eighty-five percent of this work was yours." he stacked up his piano sheets, and unzipped his backpack.

"No, I'm pretty sure, hundred percent of the work was yours, but you taught me, you know?" I smile greatly, "I will repay you, soon." I say, getting off the piano seat.

"No." he puts on his backpack.

"Yes." I put on my backpack.

"Do not." he laughed.

"I will!"

Fuck, I want to kiss you.

He laughed, and shook his head, "You don't give up do you?"

"Nope." I pursed my lips.

"Hey kids," now the janitor is interrupting, who else is going to pop in?

"It's 4:30, Music rooms are closing."

"Yes, we know, sorry." Nate rushed, "C'mon, Mihael."

And then I think.

4:30.

Oh _fuck_.

Halle's been waiting for me for an hour!

I guess I lost track of time with Nate's hand on mine.

"Nate," I turned to him, "I really have to go."

"O-Okay."

"I'm sorry, but, I will repay you." I waved.

Nate breathed a smile in response, "Bye, Mihael Keehl."

Movie moment. My heart races with his image rushing around endlessly throughout my head.

And I ran out the door.

"Where have you been?! I've been calling for ages! I almost left!" Halle screamed once I got into the car.

"I'm sorry, I had a club..." I lied, "You didn't get my text? Bad reception I guess."

"God, get in a better reception area, you dick!" she rolled her eyes.

I smirked with total revenge upon my face, as I played Moonlight Sonata perfectly, more perfect than perfect actually, pretending Nate's hand was still there, controlling my as if I was his puppet.

I finish it with a generous boom of the key.

Maybe. Maybe I really was his marionette.

Marlene claps generously back with her glorified passion. I give her my Hindu cow.

"MAGNIFICENT! I-I'm speechless! Magnificent, just magnificent, Mihael."

She was almost in proud tears.

"I had a friend help me out." I smiled the biggest, most real smile I had in years.

I ran a hot soaking bath the moment piano had ended.

Crawling in, I wasn't even thinking of my little successful piano performance tonight.

I would have, a month back. But no. Nate came into my life.

All I did was think of Nate and Nate only.

God, I wish he was sitting in here with me. I'd kiss his hair and collarbones.

I stretched out, and put my arms at either sides of the tub to keep them dry.

I took a deep breath in and leaned back to stare at the ceiling.

That's never going to happen, is it?

_Ugh!_

I roll my eyes before closing them.

_Stop controlling me, Nate._

I jumped when my phone rang by the sink.

I groaned louder than expected.

"Yeah, what?" I answered the moment I successfully reached over without getting out of the bathtub.

"Guess where I aaam." Mail taunted.

I buried myself back into the tub, keeping my elbow steady on the ledge so I don't drop the phone.

My voice was groggy, "I don't know, Mail, where are you?" I rubbed my forehead from the tired streak.

"Wow, great enthusiasm. I know that was meant to be fake." he responds.

"Sorry, I'm taking a bath. I'm tired." my voice was low.

"This is important, Mr. Diva," he mocked, "I'm at Nelson Middle School."

"What, why? At like, 5:40?"

"I had to pick up my mom from her substitute nurse shift, but she's not out yet," Mail wavered away from the line for a split second, "I wanted to take a chance to snoop around in the library. It's still open."

"Why do I need to know this?" I tried to laugh, but it came out weak.

"Well, didn't you tell me earlier this week that Nate went to Nelson?"

My attention immediately snapped into the conversation, "Yeah, why?"

"So? Why not... find out his... real name?" he said diabolically.

"Real name? We already know his real name." my tone was addled.

"His _last_ _name_. We don't know his last name. We should know his last name."

"Doesn't that kind of sound stalkerish? I mean, he never told me his last name – what if he didn't want me to know it?" I anxiously started to pick at my cuticles, "What if I accidentally say it next time I talk to him, and he'll get really freaked out that I randomly know it?"

"Then give an excuse. You're good at those." Mail instantly pressed.

"Was that a compliment or an insult?"

"Depends on what case we're talking about, but, don't you want to know his full real name? He knows yours. _It's only fair._" Mail started to bribe again.

I really, really did, I'm not going to lie.

My voice was choppy. "M-Uh-I-Uh-Mh..."  
>"Aha! I hear you buying into the pressure! Of course you do." I could just feel Mail smirking.<p>

I sighed in surrender, "Yes. Yes I do."

"I bet you're wondering if you'll take it marriage." he teased briefly, "Okay, I'm at the yearbooks."

My heart pounded nervously.

Which, I honestly, did not get. This wasn't such a big deal, right?

"Which one do you think I should start with? 2001-2002, 2000-2001, 1999-2000. He has to be either a freshmen, sophomore or junior right? I don't think he's a senior so I'm gonna stay away from '98."

"We'll also find out what grade he's in, huh?" I started to get out of the tub, so I put the device on speakerphone.

"Do you think I should start with last year? I mean, neither of us saw him last year. He has to be a freshman. He just has to be."

"Yeah sure, start with 2001." I commented. I jumped into my pajamas and played at my bangs in front of the mirror for a second.

"Shit!" Mail whispered. I almost pulled out my hair from the sudden panic.

My blood pressure rises, "What?! What?!"

Mail's paused for a moment as I put on my shirt cautiously.

"Oof. Okay. Oh god. That scared me." he panted.

"What that hell just happened?!" I came out of my bathroom and dropped tiresomely on the bed.

"I thought someone came in here, but it was just some book that fell off of a shelf. I think there might be a poltergeist."

"Mail, just hurry up." I giggled, "If you're so scared of getting caught, speed up the process."

"Okay, okay, let's see... Eighth Grade. I'll just skim over until I see white hair. This is far too easy, thank god." he mumbled away.

"Oh! Tell me his graduating quote too, that's always fun." I bit my lip.

"Yeah, I know, all of them are like, 'I'm going to be the next president,' 'I love my mom and dad!' or 'I want to be a penguin!'" Mail giggled, "Middle Schoolers are so innocent. I can't wait to see Nate's, too. It's probably something really squishy, if you know what I mean."

I blushed.

_Squishy._

My heart started to pound even more and more impatient.

"I remember mine, mine was like, 'I'm going to be a race car driver!' because I couldn't stop playing Tokyo Drift that year," he started to crack up again, "I forgot yours."

"I think it was, 'I'm going to be #1 in everything.' Something like that." I pushed my hair back, "Maybe it was 'I'm going to conquer the world as #1,'" I mused.

"FOUND HIM!" Mail burst.

I exploded along with him, "TELL ME HIS NAME NOW! TELL ME! TELL ME! TELL ME!"

Mail just kept laughing.

"WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING?! IS HIS LAST NAME RIDICULOUS?"

"NO – IT'S COMMON AS FUCK," Mail tried to form words through the chortling, "I'M JUST LAUGHING REALY HARD AT HOW THEY WROTE HIS NAME."

"Well?! What is it?! Mail, I'm about to fucking choke you through the line! Tell me, now!"

Mail breathed in, trying to contain his laughter, "Y-You-Y-You ready?" he almost burst out his giggling again, but he cut it off himself by sucking it back in, resulting with an obnoxious chuckle.

"_Yes!"_ I groaned.

"O-Okay. Okay," Mail paused again, "One second." he snickered.

"MAIL, I SWEAR!"

"Okay, okay, for real this time, for real." he sighed away the rest of the laugh.

"Nathaniel. Lawliet. River." he melodies in a dreamy mocking voice before bursting out laughing once more.

"Nathaniel Lawliet River?" I instantly smiled, "Wow." I breathed.

"_Wow!_" Mail mocked my rather ridiculously dreamy tone, "You sound like you're in fifth grade, '_Wow!'"_

"Oh, shut up. I love him." I continued the chimerical voice. I couldn't help it.

I _was_ acting like a fifth grade girl, but I didn't care anymore.

_Nathaniel Lawliet River._

"_I love him._" Mail ridiculed again, "Bahahaha!"

"What's he wearing in the picture? Is he smiling?"

Mail ate his last laugh and focused on Nate's visual, "Well, he looks like he's _trying_ to smile. It's a really tiny, half smile, I guess. His hair looks nice though. He's wearing a white dress shirt. He has large bags under his eyes, looks like he got no sleep at all last year."

I frowned, "My poor baby."

"_My poor baby!_"

"Shut up and tell me his grad quote, you little shit." I interrupted before he could start laughing ridiculously again.

"Whoa, that's a long quote for an 8th grade graduate," he commented.

"Nevermind that, what does it say?" I urged.

Mail thoroughly reads it over to me as if it was a riddle, "'_If you can't beat the game, if you can't solve the puzzle. You're nothing but a loser.'_"

I blinked, astonished.

What?

"Wow, your boyfriend was a pretty _dark_ 8th grader." I hear Mail slamming the yearbook closed.

That was not what I was expecting.

That was not squishy.

That was not anything to ponder softly and fond about.

It only made me feel... empty... and inquisitive.

"Yo – Mihael, you there?"

I didn't say a word back to Mail.

This _intuition_ with Nate.

It's stronger than I thought.

And I never would have thought it could get stronger than it already was.

Nate, I am not your marionette.

There was something I didn't like about that quote.

The word,

'Loser.'


	8. Chapter 8: Imperfect

On, Tuesday, December the 7th 2002, I waited. Waited for my best friend to arrive. Arrive to the subway train, we'd both ride so willingly to school.

But Gevanni didn't come.

On, Wednesday, December the 8th 2002, I didn't wait. I didn't wait for a miracle to save my life, but it happened.

For the first time, I held Mihael Keehl's hand as we both played Moonlight Sonata.

On, Thursday, December the 9th 2002, Mihael Keehl came over for dinner, and I completely fell in love with him.

He told me everything. As if he trusted his life in my hands.

With all the insecurities, and all the bullshit in his past, made his flaws perfect. He was a rueful imperfect beautiful boy, laying on my bed, as I curled his blonde hair with my fingertips.

Imperfect was perfect.

* * *

><p>Small chapter, I know, I'm sorry; but it goes along with Near's depression.<p> 


	9. Chapter 9: Perfect

**TW:** Blood (not graphic,) mention of suicidal thoughts, slight mention of drug use, slurs against drug abuse.

I don't own DN.

* * *

><p>It was Thursday.<p>

"Do we need to take this fucking book home? Because I really don't have time for this shit. I want to play Mortal Kombat when I get home." Mail groaned, "You know, didn't she say to read the rest of Chapter Three or something?" he shoved his locker shut.

"I don't know, I'm not in your English class." I told him.

"Oh, yeah." Mail pushed a stick of gum into his mouth, "Well, it's like ten pages, so I'm bringing it." he chewed.

"How fantastic." I say back.

We went upstairs to my locker, my thoughts just filled with Nate, and a few other things that weren't as important.

The hall was humming the rioting sound of students, packing up, and yelling.

I reached into my locker for my textbooks. After the books were tucked inside my backpack, and my locker closes, well, the day was officially over.

"You know, I've got so much homework, I don't think I can make it in time to the market." I finally say.

"Why do you want to go to the market?" Mail was rustling around his lunch box looking for leftovers he wanted to actually eat.

"Well, ,I just... need to get somethings."

"Well, get what things?"

I sighed. "I just gotta get some chocolate." I answered.

"Hey, you know, why don't we take a quick road trip? We can go to the market across the street and get you some chocolate."

"You know what? Sure."

Mail smiled the biggest smile I've seen in weeks.

"You seem happy." I gave him a half smile.

"Sorry... I've just been depressed lately." we pushed open the front entrance and entered the outside world. Where there were no teachers anymore, they were just people. And when it was after school, or the weekend, kids that weren't your friends, did not exist. Plus, fresh air.

I pursed my lips, and the bitter cold bit at my cheeks. I hid the lower half of my face down into my scarf.

Mail put his goggles over his eyes, and pulled up the collar of his trench coat to his jawbone.

"Why?" my heart sank. I realized why he started to play more and more video games. He was too lonely and it was his way to escape.

Over to side where we walked, on the bike racks, you hear this cute girly laugh in the distance, and a deep giggle from a familiar boy. A very familiar boy.

Mail's elbow nudged mine.

The corner of my eye looked over there.

It was Light and Misa. They were cuddled, Light kissing her cheek. She was laughing.

"That's why." he whispered to me. His tone was more cold than the frost.

I sighed. "Here let me fix that for you."

Mail stopped in his tracks as he watched me, make a mini ice snowball from whatever I can get from the icy sidewalk.

"Hey, douche!" I chucked it at Light. I had a good throw, in sixth grade I was on the soft ball team, so it should of landed somewhere on him.

"Augh!" my mini snowball landed right on his nut sack.

Mail laughs his most real award winning laugh. And I laugh.

A few kids around me laugh.

Light raises his head up from his cold balls to see me standing before me.

"MIHAEL, OH MAN, DUDE, DID YOU THROW THAT?"

"Yep!" I stuck my tongue out, big and snotty.

"YOU BITCH!" Light laughed, running at me, "I'm going to maul you like a bear, you Russian!"

This is the part where I run, so I whisper to Mail, "she's all yours, go talk to her," I smiled into his ear.

And he smiles. It's so alive, so real.

* * *

><p>We walk down the road to the closest Market from Whammy. I walk with a playfully bruised arm, rib, and ankle.<p>

Again, our are voices muffled, with us trying our best to cover our cheeks from the cold.

Frostbites.

"So what did she say?" I ask Mail.

"What do you mean what did she say?"

"When you sat down next to Misa, what did you guy's talk about?"

"Well, I said, hey, and she's all hi, and I'm all, what's up? And she said just waiting for my boyfriend to stop kicking Keehl's ass. And I said cool." he pursed his lips, pouting a little in embarrassment.

"Hey! _Light Imagay_ was _not_ kicking my ass! I gave that that cunt an Indian rug burn!"

"He was actually kicking your ass." he laughed.

"Well, I don't hit girls."

Mail threw out his biggest laugh today.

"It's true," I shrugged.

There was a long pause.

"Hey, Mail," I break, "What do boys like?"

"What?"

"What do boys like?"

"I know what you said, I'm just wondering why the fuck are you saying that? You're a guy you should know. I feel like all this falling in love with a boy stuff would be easy for you. You're both guys, you know what guys want, guys like, guys feel."

"It's not like __THAT__." I emphasized.

"Well, what is it like?"

"You act like boys aren't different from each other. So are girls. They're not all the same. Some girls like cars, some girls like Barbies, some boys like G.I. Joes, some like Kens. You know what I mean? And it doesn't mean they're hypothetically straight or gay, sexuality doesn't take part in that." I explained, "I'm just wondering, Nate's so different from me, yet so alike."

"Ah. You know, the right question for that, is not what boys like, it's what Nate likes." he corrected.

"Yeah."

"But, I don't know what Nate likes. I don't know Nate." he shrugged, "He seems really nice, and really cool, but I don't know shit."

"So what the hell do I get him?"

"Wait, I thought we were getting chocolate for you? What is this about getting Nate something?"

"Well, the other day... He taught me that one part of Moonlight Sonata I kept messing up on. And I was so thankful, I want to get him something." my heart jumped from the memory of his fingertips brushing against my hand.

"I don't know what to tell you." he replied, "I have no idea what he likes. Get him chocolate. Everyone loves chocolate. And get him... a toy. Toys are always relevant. Every high schoolers love toys because they remind them of their childhood." he said.

"I didn't have any toys when I was little... that's what Halle says. She said Irina just fed me and went to go fucking strip." I spat, "I don't know about him, but I think that's just you, Mail."

"Okay, maybe it is just me... maybe I just want to go back to the time when I didn't want to commit suicide..." he mumbled.

I didn't think he wanted me to hear that, but I did.

I heard him.

No.

I'll throw it aside, maybe it will pass. It's Mail.

C'mon it's __Mail__. He's always happy. He's my best friend. And he always smiles.

"Hey want to listen to some music?" he broke the silence between us.

I breathed in through my nose, and slowly blew it out of my mouth.

Mail, was not suicidal. He didn't want to commit suicide.

He wasn't going to.

"Yeah."

Keeping our pace; it was a pretty long way, but it was the closest across the school.

Mail was humming along to the song playing over as we walked in.

Warm air flew at me, warming up my tattered cheeks.

I see something familiar from the corner of my eye.

Dark hair.

Grey eyes.

Expensive looking dark sweatshirt.

My instinct punched me in the face and my gut twisted. It was Gevanni.

I can ask him about Nate! What did Nate like? What did he want?

But, Gevanni hates me. And I'm pretty sure I hate him.

"DUDE!" Mail's voice piped up, crashing into my train of thought. I flipped my head around to see what the hell he needed.

"LOOK GAME CARDS YOU SHOULD BUY ME ONE!" he flopped around a little card in his hand, some code you enter to get new machine guns or whatever in an X-Box game.

I turned back around, disregarding it, staring at Gevanni, deciding if I should just come up to him.

He was looking at magazines. First, Sports Illustrated, then Time, then opened up a TV Guide.

"Mihael!" Mail whined.

Shit! Mail, you idiot! Don't call my name! He'll know I'm here!

I ducked into an aisle.

"NOT TODAY, __SWEETHEART__." I yelled back to Mail through my teeth.

"BUT _MOM_!" he hopelessly whined in reply.

I hear Mail shuffling it around, trying to hang it back on with all the other gift cards and debit cards on the rack.

Good. The fight between son and mother is over.

I peeked back into the magazine section.

What the hell...

Gevanni was gone. I crouched, and started to slide a bit forward, seeing if he went to the cash register.

"What the hell are you doing, Keehl?"

Not Mail's voice.

My heart stops.

I turned around once more.

Shit. It's Gevanni.

I blinked, wide eyed. Just blown from the surprise. I was speechless.

My heart was pounding from the embarrassment, and my gut was kicked in like a drum, just fucking ready to puke.

"I said, what the hell are you doing?" he snickered, though a serious look crossing his face.

"It doesn't look good, does it..." I began.

"No."

I stood up, sighed, and brushed the dirt of my knees.

"I was just... shopping." I kicked my boot against the floor. Trying to not look into his devil eyes.

"Well, doesn't look like it," he rolled his eyes, and stormed passed me.

"Wait!"

Shit. It was word vomit. The thing I wanted to say most.

"W-What does Nate like?"

There's a long pause, and a silly mad look forms on Gevanni's face.

He turns red as a tomato.

"So you do like him!" he screamed. "I swear if you go near Nate with your crack whore ass, I'll shove all of your precious cocaine down your pig nostrils and pray your heart stops!"

He stomped back over to me in fury.

I wanted to be mad. I did. I wanted to punch him in the face. I did.

But this was a store. It wasn't civilized to do anything like that. Nothing Gevanni could understand, obviously.

So, I just kept my cool, like I was in Housewives.

"Dude, what? Just shut the fuck up, and calm down..." I whispered back.

I swear I saw his neck muscle twitch from anger. He flared his nostrils, and followed his angry dark gray eyes back to me.

"Okay, so what the fuck are you asking me, Keehl?"

"Look, the other day, Nate helped me with something I was struggling with. It worked and I really appreciated it. So I just wanted to send him a thank you gift, but I don't have any idea what he might want..."

I explained.

He sighed.

"Mihael. You like him. I know this."

My heart skipped a beat, and I blush.

"How?"

He ignored me full on, "I don't blame you, he's gorgeous and sweet, but thing is, he doesn't like _you_. Sorry."

No.

No.

No. Shut up.

SHUT UP!

"And how do you know he doesn't?" I tried. I tried. So hard. Not to lose it.

I wanted to yell, I wanted to tackle the bastard. I wanted to kill him.

I had a screeching, soul scratching on the insides of my body, trying to burst out, and murder him.

My heart was actually, starting to ache.

"He just doesn't go for douchebags." he winked.

"Oh yeah! I forgot! You would know! You're _so_ right, he _doesn't_ go for _douchebags_! Because that's why he never dated _you_." I was losing it, trying to keep my cool but honestly just forcing back tears. All I could do was snap and ramble at him.

He flared his nostrils.

He grabbed my shirt.

And he punched me so hard, my nose bled at the first hit.

I just didn't care anymore.

I was already broken.

"Say it! Say it again!" Gevanni positioned his threatening fist three inches above my face.

"He. Will. Never. Date. You." I smirked. He held my head back, and my nose started to gush even more.

Another punch thrown at my face.

In a lonely market, no one here but the clerk and Mail somewhere off looking at Playboys. It felt like a dark alley in the middle of the night. But this was New York. It was five o'clock.

I'm not the only one getting beat down and no one doing anything about it.

No one giving a shit.

Including me.

Another punch.

Another smile and insane laugh from me.

"Oh, do it again! I beg you! Do it again! One more! Ahahahahaha!"

Another punch.

"Ahahahahaha! Ahahaha! More, more, more, more! Ahahah! Give me more!"

Another punch.

"Ahahaaha! Thank you sir, may I have another? Ahahah!"

"Y-You're fucking insane! Stop laughing!" he finally let go of my shirt, and threw me on the ground.

"Do it again, do it again! Do it again!" I guffawed, trying to get into his mind.

Gevanni just stared at me open wided. And ran as fast as he could to the door.

"Wait! Gevanni! Where you goin'?! No seriously, Gevanni, come back! Ahahaha! You haven't killed me yet! Just one more pop to the jaw! Ahahaha!" I gave my best psychotic laugh.

The little bell sound rang and he was gone.

I rolled on the floor bleeding, gushing all my insides out.

I was _still_ laughing.

And I didn't know why.

"Aha! Aha! Ahahaha!"

And then out of nowhere, the laughs turned into wrenching sobs.

"Ahahaha – Ha – Ah – Uh..."

And I run out the door, tears freezing to my battered cheeks, my split lip getting a huge cold splinter.

And I cry and I cry.

Leaving Mail clueless in the shop alone, looking for me.

But I couldn't even care about that right now.

* * *

><p>I run down into the nearest subway and slide down the wall to the dirty, dusty, trashy floor as I wait to the next train back to Bronx.<p>

I don't even care about how gross everything around me was anymore.

My phone rings.

It's Mail.

"Yeah?" I tried not to cry, but I let out the biggest sniff, ever.

"Holy fuck, you okay? Why are you crying and why aren't you here? I'm scared, dude, there's this middle aged Spanish lady with drooping boobs and Chanel sunglasses checking me out. Help." he whispered through the line.

I instantly blabber a laugh. He never fails to make me laugh at the worst times.

"No seriously though, what's wrong? Why are you crying your eyes out over there?" Mail repeated.

"...So, uh, Gevanni came to visit." I took off my gloves to wipe some tears because I could barely see anything anymore and ended up with a snot and blood stained palm.

I shook and gave another loud sob from the sight.

I didn't even have to explain.

"Oh no..."

"Ye-Yeah..."

"Did he tell you that you needed Alcoholics Anonymous or something just like last time?" I could hear Mail's sympathetic frown.

"No... but he m-m-m-mentioned th-the co-co-co-coca-cocaine." I struggled through sobs.

"That little bitch! Is that why you're crying so hard?"

I shook my head, barely breathing from the crying, "No! I don't care about the dumb cocaine anymore!"

"Wait, what?"

"He-he-he told me th-th-at N-N-N-Nate didn't li-li-like me back!" I was now feeling dizzy from all the sobbing and wrenching.

"Mish, don't listen to him... like, what the fuck does he know?!" Mail tried.

"Gevanni's Nate's _friend_... it's okay, though, Mail... I didn't think h-he-he'd like me b-b-back." I buried my face in my free palm.

"Well, he's gonna like you back."  
>"W-What?"<p>

"Nate's going to fall in love with you when you give him the awesome present!" Mail started with a new enthusiastic tone.

"We didn't get a present, Mail."

"Well you tell me what to buy, and then I'll go and get it."

"Mail don-"

"You tell me what to buy, and then I'll go and get it, did I fucking stutter?"

"But, Mail, why?"

"Because Misa not loving me back is eating me alive, okay? I don't want that kind of shit eating at you too. It's the worst feeling in the world, and I don't need you to suffer with it. You deserve Nate."

I feel like my head was about to split open from all the physical pain and tears and confusion.

"Mail, I'm so sor-"

"Mihael, stop. Don't say anything. The only thing I want to hear out of your mouth right now, is what you need me to get Nate."

I'm speechless for a moment.

"Mihael." Mail goes once more.

"Toys. Just. Just toys! Get him what you said an hour back... about the toys. Get him some marbles... Pretty ones... get him dominoes... get him a tin wind up robot... I don't know..."

"Perfect." Mail confirmed.

My train starts to come up and I panic,

"Mail, I gotta go, my train's here..." I quickly gather my gloves that were thrown at the side of my right leg carelessly and shove them back on.

"Okay, catch you later." he hangs up.

I get on, and put my hood over my head. There's a billion people here staring at me with wide open eyes already.

I stride as fast as I can to the row of empty seats towards the back, take my iPod out and start to listen to music as loud as my iPod would let me. It took me all my will power not to try and lock eyes with anyone around me.

_I know it's not like me to  
>Hold back but this time I knew<br>You must be silent to increase the volume  
>In your head<br>Blood went red  
>I'm the spectator<br>The motivator  
>Shut up, shut up<br>And do it to yourself  
>I'm just an innocent bystander<em>

_I'm just an innocent bystander _

I sat there hugging myself. I didn't care to wipe any dripping blood anymore, it would just pour down, and plop onto my coat. The blood from my nose streamed down onto my lips, which was bleeding heavily as well that it poured into different directions down from my chin.

Everyone was staring. But no one dared to sit next to me.

"Who did this!" Halle screamed as I sat on the floor of the front door pulling off my boots like a little kid.

I was so sore.

She put my face in her palms and stroked the bruises and blood with her thumbs.

"Oh my poor baby! What happened!"

"I tripped down the stairs of the subway."

Hindu cow.

"Oh, god! Ice?"

"Yeah. I landed straight onto my face when I hit the ground." I told her.

I got to say, I felt bad, I got beaten up twice today.

* * *

><p>At eight, someone rings the doorbell.<p>

"Mihael, get the door!" Halle yells from the shower.

Hell no. I'm good on the couch with my packs of ice hanging around me like I was their pimp while I sip the chocolate cocktail Halle made me and play Grand Theft Auto. This was the _life_.

"Dad! Get the door! Now!" I try and order the errand on him, but he quickly retaliates from his office,

"Shut up the fuck up, Mihael! Just because you tripped down the stairs like a fucking idiot and got a black eye doesn't mean dad's going to be your man servant and wipe your ass, _you_ get the goddamn door!" Rod screams back.

I groan. I was in the most perfect position. I sigh once more, pause Vice City and stumble over to the door. I unlock and open it.

It's Mail. What's he doing here?

"You better thank me." he raises a bag of goods.

"Whoa, Nate's present?! _Already_?!"

"Yeah, I thought tonight was the deadline for it." he shrugged, "I thought that's what you meant over the phone, anyway."

"Thank you. Thank you so much." I was ready to just fall onto my knees.

"Don't thank me." he mumbled.

I fall on the floor and let my tears of relief splash onto my face. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

"Look, I got to hit the road..." he finally said.

I sprang up. "Aw no, you sure? Wanna stay and play Grand Theft Auto and order a pizza? Oh, and Rod's home early, too! That means we can touch the paintball guns!" I taunted him.

"No... I really gotta go... homework." he said a bit glum.

"Oh... okay..." I wanted to ask whats wrong but that's what people usually asked me when I was depressed. It wasn't fun to be asked what was wrong. He seemed like he didn't want to talk about it, and I respected that. So, Mail hit the road.

But I couldn't let it go of the fact that he felt like shit all the time now. Ever since Misa.

I stood on my knees, and stared at the door in enigma, wondering what I could do.

The bad news was, I couldn't.

I couldn't fix the situation. And it made me feel weak.

The only person who snapped me out of all my depressive shit from time to time was Nate. Mail didn't have anyone. Misa decided to... ignore Mail.

Instead of continuing Vice City, I turned the X-Box off and just went straight to bed, my insides feeling empty.

I stare intensely at my ceiling.

I get into a super sleuth mood and take out the laptop from underneath the bed.

I google search all of Mail's teachers and click on their websites.

Mrs. Hansen No homework! A reward for everyone who read J.G. Ballard's Crash!

Mrs. Yan No homework today, there will be a sub tomorrow.

Mr. Bentley No homework, just make sure you're prepared for this week's mini spelling quiz tomorrow.

And for the classes Mail and I had together -

_No homework._

I gulp, and get another empty feeling in my stomach. I shut the laptop and slide it back under my bed, tears rising in my eyes.

He lied.

And then it hit me.

He's depressed.

He's _actually_ depressed.

It's time to fucking stop being oblivious just because he's your best friend. It's time to face the facts.

Mail Jeevas was depressed. Mail Jeevas wanted to die.

_Fuck_.

All I hoped was that I was with Nate soon, and Mail would forget about stupid Misa and Light so everything was perfect.

But it didn't work that way.

Things cannot be perfect.


	10. Chapter 10: Touch

**TW:** There are no TWs here! YAY!

I sadly don't Death Note.

* * *

><p>"What's that?" Rester says, sitting down next to me on the couch, pointing to the purple paper bag on the coffee table. I was half slouching on the other side, playing with the crystal like marbles Mihael had given me.<p>

"It's... It's nothing." I couldn't help but smile. Though I didn't know why I didn't want to tell him.

He gave out a laugh, "It's definitely something, you've been smiley lately." he got off the couch, and sighed, heading into the kitchen.

"Well, it is, something, but..." I fiddled around, eying the structure inside the glass.

Rester opened a cabinet to get out a mug, pouring left over coffee into it.

He came home later than usual, so he must've been tired.

"Who gave those to you?"

"Gave what?" I put on the stupid act.

He walked over from the kitchen with his coffee, and plopped down next to me, "Those marbles?"

"Someone." I kept going and going at it. I didn't want to really tell anyone about Mihael. I have my own way of thinking about him.

That I didn't want to share with anyone.

I don't want anyone's opinions anymore.

I get off the couch, taking all my presents with me, and walk into my room, "I'm gonna do homework, bye." I awkwardly told him.

"Bye?" he giggled as he took a sip. He knew something had happened that made me odd lately. He was starting to laugh at the awkward side of me.

We haven't seen that side in years. But. I guess, someone cracked me. Someone cracked my depression.

Who knew it would've been Mihael.

I close the door, and I fall on my bed and stare at the ceiling. My ceiling had a few posters on it, some show fliers I got when I've first hung out with Gevanni. Usually they had some cool drawings on it, like an evil octopus or a crazy looking Egyptian cat. It was a great memoir. Then I had my favorite actors I've ripped out of some magazines, that I thought were so attractive I thought I needed to stare at them almost everyday because of eye candy.

But now, since Mihael, I didn't feel the need to look at them.

He beat all of that.

And then Mom's old Rolling Stones poster.

I thought of so many things at one time just staring up at that wall. My thoughts all clashed together, morphing into a big ball of emotion.

The memories with my old best friend, who I shouldn't have treated like shit, and Mihael, the beautiful, most popular boy at school who will never even like me back, ever, and Mom.

I swallow the big ball of depression, and it slowly leaks down my throat, tasting of raspy annoying metal, and then it quickly sinks into the pit of my stomach, where, it felt empty, and cold, and bitter, and every terrible sad, pathetic word in the dictionary.

I start to play with my marbles again.

I didn't need to think about this. Not right now.

I was actually happy a few minutes ago, let's keep it that way.

Then the phone rings and I spring up, I jolt, toward it, like the women at a wedding trying to catch the brides bouquet.

I was thinking it would be Mihael. I gave him my number today.

"Hello?!"

But who was I kidding, its Mihael, like he's not busy with everyone else in his life.

I was probably just a tiny, microscopic part of it.

"Nate." the phone echoed Gevanni's voice into my ears.  
>Tears started to sting in the back of my eyes. He's back. He wants to talk to me.<p>

I don't know what I felt anymore, the depressing ocean just spewing its waves around in the pit, grew more soft from his voice, and the thought of him being my friend again, but it also got deeper. It was like the black deep abyss in Hell.

Was it relief? Guilt? Bittersweet happiness?

I don't know, I just swallow the rest of my lump down into that black hole and speak, trying to ignore everything brewing inside me,

"Gevanni...?!"

"I miss you." he blurts.

My throat grew sore from the sadness again.

"I miss you too."

"I... I'm sorry. For what I did. I'm sorry about the whole Mihael stuff... I didn't realize it until now. Until, yesterday that is." he started.

"What do you mean? I thought I'd never hear you say sorry about this..." I breathed a laugh and sat back down on the edge of my bed, starting to smooth out the creases on my blanket.

"I kind of felt guilty... that's all... Yesterday, I _fucked_ up, Nate. I fucked up, and then I felt completely guilty. But... it was only because I was thinking because of you. If it wasn't for you, I would be proud of myself, believe me..." he rambled on, restlessly.

"Slow down... I don't get what you're saying, What happened? What did you do yesterday?"

"I did a fucking terrible thing..."

"Well, what was it, Gevanni? Tell me..."

"I beat up Mihael..."

My heart stopped for a second, "Wait, what?"

"I punched Mihael until his nose gushed out blood and he got a black eye..."

_W-What's wrong with your eye?_

_I'm fine, don't worry about me._

"You... You... Why...?"

"Because he was just... pissing me off... he was talking to me about you."

My stomach twisted, "Wait... he talked to you? About _me_?"

"I got upset Nate okay... After that, I just felt guilty because I pounded his face in and he was your crush and stuff. So basically punching him means punching you... and I'm sorry, okay. I'm sorry. Nate."

confided I rubbed my forehead with my palm in emotional agony, "What did he say..."

I was so scared.

It must've meant that he had said something mean. Something mean and nasty. That would've been the only reason Gevanni beat him up.

I started to shake from my anxiety. I liked him that much.

I was so disappointed in myself with falling for someone like this. It was fair.

Mihael was a lie. I should've known.

I prepared myself for what terrible things to come. I took a deep breath.

"He asked me what you liked." he groaned softly.

I don't even know what to feel anymore at this extent as the words left his lips and drained to my ears from the speakerphone.

"That's it...?"

"Yeah..." he sounded guilty.

And he should be.

"Why the hell, would you do that Gevanni?!"

"Because... he likes you... and... I just got upset." Gevanni tried.

A hot rush grew to my face when he said he liked me. But, I tried to ignore that for a second,

"So... so you punched him?! H-how do even know he likes me in the first place, did he tell you?"

Gevanni didn't say anything for a long three seconds.

"No."

That sinking feeling.

Remind me to never get my hopes up about Mihael again.

To stop thinking there was any chance.

I set my standards to high on that one.

"W-well... You know what? I'm not going to be your friend..." I prompted.

"Fucking fair enough..." he muttered.

"... Until you get your anger together. I'm tired of you getting angry at people for small little things... I care about you so much... I don't want to see this anymore. Please." I begged.

He paused.

"Alright. I- I uh, love you, okay?"

"Look, I love you too and I hope we'll be friends again, but right now... I'm taking a break." I mused.

"I hope too... But... don't give up on Mihael, as much as I hate to say it... I think he likes you."

"H-how?" I pressed.

But Gevanni had already cut the line.

I think I'm going crazy.

I fell back down on my bed, and didn't blink once, my eyes wide open.

Again I caught myself thinking about Mihael for hours and hours.

I don't think I've ever liked someone like this before.

I actually want to kiss him and hold him and maybe even have sex.

I want to sleep with him in one bed. I want to kiss his beautiful smile. I want to breathe his smell in everyday.

I want to talk to him for hours.

I guess this is how it feels to finally want someone. But they don't want you.

I guess I know how Gevanni feels, how everyone else who ever liked me felt.

I was stubborn, and bitchy, all because I had a low self-asteem I didn't let anyone in.

I felt ridiculous on so many levels.

I guess I was getting karma, or something, right? This is what usually happens to stubborn people, am I right?

Then.

I think about everyone touching me. Every single person.

With my past, I didn't like people touching me. I hated feeling other people's skin against mine or other people's holds or any contact ever between humans.

It shriveled me up.

But when I think of Mihael touching me, I actually soothed. It was something new. It was a touch I didn't care about touching me. I was perfectly fine with it, and in fact hoped and dreamed of that touch to touch me.

Then memories about how he's touched me before and how I loved it, how I was perfectly fine with it in the moment.

Every single touch he had given me. It was creepy, but I guess that's how it feels to like someone like that.

I started to drift asleep, thinking about his touch.


	11. Chapter 11: Adrenaline

**TW:** Mention of self-harn

I don't own Death Note.

Taylor Swift should make a whiny song about that, I'd even buy it.

* * *

><p>On top of everything else, I think I was dying.<p>

Obviously, I wasn't actually dying, DYING. But... I was dying.

I can't eat. I can't sleep. I can't do nothing.

The thing is, ever since I got beat up by Gevanni, I feel as if I realized how real life really is, as if I haven't faced reality already being told I was adopted, and everything in between.

Flying into Russia as an unaccompanied minor, stomach swirling with angst and fear, to meet my real mother. If you would lay eyes on her, you'd get real. You'd stop living in the clouds.

Or the moment the blade deepens into your skin.

But somehow Nate got me to shoot back up into the clouds, looking and looking for him. And I can't find him. Maybe because of his beautiful snowy white hair blending into the puffy heavenly skies he's sent me in.

I was in the clouds until yesterday.

Until Gevanni's fist met my face.

Yay...

I didn't even want to think about it.

He punched hard. Physically, and not to forget, mentally.

__Hey, Keehl, how's alcoholics anonymous?__

__I swear if you go near Nate with your crack whore ass, I'll shove all of your precious cocaine down your pig nostrils and pray your heart stops!__

My heart has become just the pit it had sunken into. Being sent back into the real world twice; is a shit time.

I don't know what's driving me up a wall but I'm sure it isn't just one thing. The main factor is obviously Nate, but then I have Mail itching at me because I'm so scared about what's going on with him.

And again, Gevanni beat my ass like a cheap drum.

I hated everything.

I looked out the window each period today and watched the rain that was tapping at the window. As if it was asking me to get out of each shit lesson, calling me to be free, go wild in the rain, and forget about all my stress and forget about this beautiful boy, and my suicidal seeming best friend and Gevanni's fists launching at my face.

Sometimes I would forget I had gotten a black eye from Gevanni and I's little fight at the convenience store.

Sometimes I'd rub my eye from sleepiness and feel the pressure pressing at my lid.

And then I picture the disgusting purple my eye was displaying to the world.

For once, I felt ugly.

__Ugly.__

Each class over, I'd fake a laugh as my _friends_ would joke how I lost the fight because I couldn't hit a girl like Gevanni.

__Fake. Fake. Fake. Fake. Fake.__

The clock's tick tocks turned into these faint calls of calling me a fake.

Because I _was_ a fake.

The day was never ending. I just wanted to go home and bury myself under eight million layers of blankets, eat all the chocolate we currently have, then dream about kissing Nate while I sob my eyes out listening to those stupid pop star bitches sing and whine about their ex-boyfriends on the radio.

Maybe slice my leg up again. First time in weeks, but who cares. I have a black eye.

How could Nate like me if I have a black eye?

How is __anyone __talking to me if I have a black eye?

By the end of the day Light's still sitting behind me in same old Pre Calc.

In the same old shitty classroom that was extremely hot and stuffy and boring and it just gives you the "my brain's going to hurt" vibe once you walk into it.

But I had it worse than everyone in here. I sit in front of Light fucking Yagami.

I'm not even as angry as I usually am; I'm so used to him kicking my chair and stroking my hair it's not even fucking funny anymore.

Light's asking me for chocolate gum as I do this shitty, long ass, Made in Hell problem on page 66 (more like 666,) but I tell him I haven't been out to get any yet. And I won't for a long time. I can't deal with this stupid black eye out in public. Well not counting school, anyway. But hey, I have to go to school. I would choose not to if I could, obviously.

Somehow I've been nicer to Light lately, but that's probably because my mind was way too focused on taking care of black eyes, and beautiful boys with shiny white hair to even care about him anymore.

But Light's still a cunt.

Then Light goes on and on about the stupid fight, calling Gevanni a "stupid pussy" and that I let him win, and ladee dadee daa, the same old shit I've heard seven billion times from everyone.

And the worst part was, that on the inside, I knew I was a fucking loser and Gevanni gave it to me good.

Light and I split after class because there's no football or basketball, so he decided to take a trip to the YMCA with his Dad and play some tennis.

I really had nothing to do after school and it surprised me.

Everyone had a lot of homework because a few teachers got pissed in their personal lives and gave everyone extra loads. But whatever, I didn't want to hang with the popular guys anyway. I'd have to fake everything and then they'd invite girls over sooner or later and half of them would be giving me unwanted lap dances just like last time, and I really do not want to go through that again.

And Mail, said he can't.

He's way too 'tired.' _Again_.

And my heart sinks.

I picked at my locker and Mail scurried home telling me a brief bye in this depressing hoarse voice.

I think it was one of the shittiest days ever.

I crossed my fingers mentally for some kind of miracle. Maybe Nate would pop out of thin air behind me and put his cute little hands over my eyes and be all, "guess who?" and my heart would flutter and I'll be all, "I don't know!"

That's a lie. I'd know who it would be. Because he's the only one. Period.

But the chances of that happening ever is never out of never.

I sighed and closed my stupid locker.

I've been calling everything stupid today.

Because everything _is_ stupid.

_Fuck off._

I make my way over to the commons, and of course speak of the devil because my life is this fucked up version of a John Hughes romance film, and my heart is stopping and I am turning red as the thick blood from a Rob Zombie horror film.

Nate's sitting right there at one of the tables in Whammy indoor cross country uniform, reading a Biology textbook. The boy I've been looking for all day, but have been inching away from at the same time.

Because I was so ugly today.

I _NEEDED_ to come up to him.

I _HAD_ to come up to him.

The present for Nate that Mail helped me with is inside my backpack right at this very moment.

I tried to forget about the whole 'I'll repay you for teaching me Moonlight Sonata' thing so I can just convince myself with some mental excuse that it was for the best I didn't talk to Nate today.

I am not losing my dignity by coming up to him with an ugly black eye.

But how can I?

From how much I love him and from how much I appreciated everything Mail does for me; I really couldn't

I guess... this is the most perfect time.

I have to go with this screwed up John Hughes' script and not pussy out.

Part of me, obviously, didn't even want to walk up. There was just this pulling magnet force coming from Nate that I was attracted to.

Jesus Christ here we go.

"Hey, Nate." I breathed.

I came up faster to him than expected.

It just all happened so fast.

Adrenaline pulsed through me as he looked up.

At first it seemed as if he was going grin but that little stretch went the other way.

My heart jumped out of its black pit even higher than expected.

"What happened to your face?" was my instant greeting.

I couldn't breathe.

I put on a fake show, "Don't worry about me, I'm fine."

"Are you positive, Mihael?" Nate had these beautiful eyes I kept dreaming about, though, this time they were so scared. They were, disturbed.

He said my name.

He's concerned.

I shook the silly shit out of me, and went onto what I really came to do here in the first place before I have a heart attack.

__God, I'm in love with you.__

"Yeah, I'm pretty positive," I laughed.

I unzipped my backpack and rustled through worthless textbooks and crumbled notes.

And then, everything happening so fast, the next thing I see is his cute smile and how his eyes were confused.

I still couldn't breathe.

"What? What's this? And why?"

"It's a present." I smiled with pursed lips.

"Well, why?" his voice went all excited and I felt as if my veins had melted.

"Because. You helped me with Moonlight Sonata. If it wasn't for you, I still would suck at it." I chuckled.

I wasn't even thinking about what I was saying, only feelings and feelings and feelings where sputtering out, with this fluff caught between the pit of my stomach.

Is this how truth feels like?

It felt true.

It felt good.

He placed it in his bag with the biggest smile I've ever seen on him. He was saving it for later.

And I didn't need anything anymore. It was all done and good. I didn't care if he didn't want to open it in front of me.

"Thank you, Mihael, I-"

He caught off, looking scared again.

He was silent for a while and I still couldn't breathe and I didn't know what was happening and why it was happening so fast.

"You what?"

"I – I'm really thankful for this gift. Thank you, again." Nate piped back up.

__Thank the sweet lord.__

I felt fulfilled or something, like I was being freed from a jar.

I wanted to tell him I love him, but I knew everything would go to shit if I did that.

I sighed mentally.

"Mihael, ca-" he tried, but luck had my cell phone ringing.

"God, I'm so fucking sorry!" I flustered.

__Shit! What if he hates people who cuss! Ugh!__

__What do I do?__

__I can't breathe!__

__I can't d-__

"Hello?" I gave out, annoyed into the other line.

"Where the hell are you? I've been waiting for you outside for about 20 minutes!" Halle flabbergasts back to me.

Shit, I forgot she'd be waiting. Just like last time.

I fucking forget everything with Nate.

I guess he stops time.

"I'm sorry, I'll be right out..." I muttered and hung up before she can say anything.

I don't want to go.

I don't.

Maybe I can push my luck for a hug or something, I don't know.

Fuck me.

"God, I am sorry, I have to go... I wish we could have talked more..." I trailed with this fake, embarrassed and exhausted smile.

"Oh... It's okay... Thank you, I wish we could have talked more too." he gave out.

I almost fainted from everything going.

"Can I have your number then?" I burst.

How the fuck did that just happen? Please. Enlighten me?

Shit shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

"No, shit, sorry, you don't have to I-" I tried to take it back right away, but a tiny miraculous moment interrupts my panic.

"Yeah, you can have my number." Nate grinned.

And everything was perfect for a moment.

* * *

><p>The whole night I meant to call Nate and picked up where we left off. But, I screwed up again. I couldn't do it.<p>

I couldn't as him if he liked my gift, or if he had a good day today or anything.

I want him to just tell me his whole life over the phone, but I procrastinated painfully on the thing I most wanted to do.

I called Mail three times but he didn't pick up.

I passed out on the couch watching late night Jeopardy with nothing but Nate's eyes and smile in my mind.

* * *

><p>I got home from school the next day and I only concentrated on one thing and one thing only.<p>

Calling the number on the ripped out lined notebook scrap carefully placed out on my desk.

Nate.

I walked around home all day instead, listening to music and going on a see food diet. (I see food, I eat it,) and still of course thinking about calling Nate, barely finishing my homework with two words going on-and-on on repeat.

__Do it.__

__Do it.__

__Do it.__

* * *

><p>I picked up my phone and I fucking did it.<p>

I fucking did it.

I don't even fucking care anymore.

I'm not going to get anywhere if I don't do shit, right?

Right?

I grabbed my phone with the adrenaline pumping through me, a nasty adrenaline that is, because I was going to throw up, I can feel it.

I pressed each number carefully, making sure I didn't accidentally call some old lady in New Mexico.

I bit my lip so intensely I could already taste the iron in the blood that would gush out if I bit any harder.

It rang and it rang and it rang, and I felt like it was a countdown to the end of my life.

Not that I minded. I wish it was the end of my life instead, really.

Shit.

"Hello?"

Fuck!

It's him!

I hung up the moment I heard his voice, a.k.a the moment my heart jumped out of my throat and my eyes, I swear to god, my eyes turned into the size of the fucking moon.

I shook for a second with my eyes dilated on my calender.

I did that one breathing technique I learned over twenty times at the hospital, and rung him up again.

I couldn't just fucking leave this.

I got so far five minutes ago, that I can't just give up like this.

"_Hello?_" his voice was now more demanding and annoyed.

"Hey! Sorry! It's me, Mihael... I called you a few minutes back but... I didn't here anyone at the end of the other line, so you know, I thought I'd try again!" I rushed.

Did I even sound believable that time?

I hate myself so much.

"Oh hey!" his voice piped up and the adrenaline started to magically vanish.

I mean, he sounded like he wanted to talk to me too.

"You got time to talk?" I tried a cheery, 'I'm cool' voice.

My voice was shaking to much.

"Actually we're about to have dinner..." he trailed off, through the line and I heard a rattling of glasses.

"Oh... You and your family?" I steadily asked. What a fucking stupid question. I rolled my eyes after I realized what I just had asked him.

"Yeah. You could come... join the fun." he breathed a laugh. His cute laugh made me shiver. In a good way.

"I'd love to!" I excitedly replied, but then remembered a few manners, "But, I mean, I don't want to be a burden to you guys, I mean it's a family dinner, and, I don't want your mother to cook an extra meal... and all..." I groaned sympathetically.

"Nonsense, It's only a table of two, and I don't mind cooking another meal, I mean, I haven't even started." he assured me.

"You're cooking? Table of two?" I was thinking he had a few siblings or something.

"Yeah, it's just me and my dad."

I suddenly felt a wave of sadness.

"I'm sorry about your mother." I spoke back up into the phone. I guess he didn't have any siblings either.

"What?" he breathed into the line, I felt a smile. "What are you talking about?" he giggled.

"You said it's just you and your dad..." I said confused. I sat up and curled my arm around my leg and started to rest my elbow on my knee. I probably avoided the fact that his mom is probably at work.

"Yeah, but he's my adoptive dad. He adopted me. I didn't know my real mom or dad. It's always been me and him."

A smile broke across my face, as the words left his lips and into my ear. It was meant to be. We had so much similarities, yet we were both so different. I automatically wanted to tell him my life in one phone call.

"Really? I was adopted at a small age too, Rod and Halle are just my adoptive parents." I explained with surprise in my voice.

"Oh, how cool. Guess we have the same life line, huh?" he laughed at my pumped voice.

I blushed. Thank God, this was a conversation over the phone, I would've pissed my pants already from his cute giggles, and everything else.

"So you really want me to come over for dinner?" I asked anxiously. What if he changed his mind? Because, I sounded like an idiot. And nobody likes to invite idiots to dinner. Or lunch. That's just how the world went round.

"Yeah... I mean... if you want." I felt him shrug. I heard him mixing some kind of food with something that sounded like a large metal spoon in the background.

"Of course I want to, and, I can actually maybe stay after and hang out too, I mean if your dad allows me and all." I offered, regardless. I was too happy, too excited.

"Oh sure, but I'm a bit boring, I'm warning you now," he laughed, "But although I have an X-Box, and on-demand television, so we can be entertained, you and I." Nate claimed, and said to himself while at it. I laughed hysterically at his cute voice.

"Don't laugh." he guffawed back. I calmed down, and took a breath.

"Right, I know, you're about to ask for directions." I heard him tapping a kitchen knife.

"Oh, yeah, you're right." I slid off my bed, and turned over a school announcement paper I didn't need.

"You ready?"

"Yup," I quickly grabbed the closest utensil lying around in my direction, a sharpie, and uncapped it with my teeth.

I wrote down his instructions carefully, because I knew I didn't want to miss this, my heart pounded with urgency to his beautiful voice.

"Got it." I said.

"Alright, and I recommend to take the subway there, my dad doesn't even own a car because we live that close." he informed me.

"Oh, my MetroCard just expired a few days ago... Don't worry I still have transportation, I'll make it..." I lied. Using the subway was the last thing I wanted to do.

I wanted to go on my motorcycle.

Cue the evil diabolic laugh.

I know, I was kind of prideful when it came to making a scene in front of Nate. But, that was me.

"Oh, That's a bummer, I guess you'll get here a bit late, but I mean that's alright, we won't start without you," he said a little unsteady. I felt like he wanted me to get over there quicker and sooner. It made me smirk malevolently. __Yesssss! __I cheered, thinking.

"It's okay, I'll try to get there sooner." I smiled through the phone.

"Alright, Mihael, I'll see you in a bit." he sounded distant. I acknowledged he put speaker phone on to put something into the oven.

"See you." I disconnected, smiling my ass off.

As I put down the phone. I didn't know what to do. Should I dress fancy? Should I recall this as a date-kind-of-thing? Wait, no, are you crazy! Of course not! Shut up!

My mind was scattered everywhere. I decided I shouldn't dress in a tuxedo, just normal clothes, that would be too dumb and over the top.

I just wondered what he was wearing now.

Then another thought pushed at me. Shit, should I take a shower? Wear cologne? Make my hair look better? These questions shook me. I knew that Nate already started to cook, so I couldn't take long getting ready, so a shower was out of the question. I didn't smell bad either so, I didn't think it was that important.

I agreed with the thought to wear cologne, because I guess it would be pretty classy.

I changed into leather and made sure my hair wasn't messed up at all.

Is there anything I'm forgetting?

Goddamn, this is stressing.

I'm going to die, and this isn't even a date.

Imagine if it was a date.

Holy shit!

I stormed into the kitchen to take out an energy drink from the fridge. I was already tired, and falling asleep at the wheel, (well, bars for me,) wasn't going to fly.

"Going somewhere?" I didn't notice Halle sitting at the kitchen table trying to make herself a smoothie.

Shit! I completely forgot about asking Halle if I can go over there. What if she says no? I already said I was coming, and Nate's cooking me a meal!

I tried not to sound worried,

"Um...yeah..." I wavered in murmur.

"Oh? Where? Mihael, you told me you weren't going anywhere." she started to have a tone. Halle hated when I didn't tell her anything.

"Oh... I... forgot..." I nervously quivered, still trying to mask my emotions cooly. Isn't really working, I was losing my shit, assuming she wasn't going to let me go to Nate's. I pleaded she wouldn't erupt. I couldn't look at her, it was too pressurizing. She had some kind of aura that made me feel so guilty. I bet she was crossing her arms, and tapping her foot impatiently. I could already hear the foot tapping. I opened my energy drink.

"You forgot? Okay, fine, where are you going? At eight-fifty-seven? Hun, it's already dark out." she still had a tone.

"I'm... going... out for dinner..." I said between gulps.

"You're dating?" she strictly asked. It's not like I wasn't allowed to date, if I didn't tell her I was dating, she assumed who ever I was dating was a bad influence.

"NO!" I turned around brick red and swallowed my drink. It was automatically Nate we were talking about here.

I wish I was...

Halle snickered. "Oh...?" she played out a bit cocky, mouth agape in an amused oval.

Good job, Mihael, you made yourself look worse in the situation, now she thinks you're dating. Yeah, that so didn't make me look like I wasn't dating. That was sarcasm, by the way.

"No, trust me mom, I'm not! He's just my friend, and he invited me to dinner, and I really, really, really, wanna come over!" I tried to convince the woman as I jumped up and down like a little kid for ice cream.

"Alright! Just stop acting like a three year old, Mihael." she sighed. "But, please, please, PLEASE, be back by at least eleven... Or I'll call the cops. And take your cell phone, and ANSWER it when I call."

"YES!" I threw my arms up in the air. Relief. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thaaaank yoooouuuu!" I ran up and hugged her.

"Why are you so excited for dinner over at a friend's house?" she asked suspiciously. "What are you going to do over there with him?"

"Murder a family of three and have hot passionate sex afterward." I over exaggerated, and broke out of our adoptive mother-son embrace.

"No I meant, Are you in a relationship with him? 'Cos, you're acting way too excited for a dinner there. I never see you go ape-shit at a hangout at Mail's house, Heck, I never see you go crazy over even a birthday party at Mail's house, and now this new friend I don't even know about, is getting so much of your energy all because of a dinner." she rambled on.

"What?! No! Mom, I'm not gay!" I screamed in embarrassment, "I just really, really, really, like him." I mumbled.

I just said that. Oh my god, Mom knows I'm attracted to a boy. I couldn't believe my ears, because she understood me. There were no disowns in the process of finding out I, the child, was attracted to the same sex. So, I guess, Halle was a great kind of mom, after all.

"Congratulations, Mihael." she smiled warmly.

"What?"

"Congrats, I think your pansexual." her smile got bigger.

I thought for a moment.

"You think?"

"If you're not attracted to men, but to your friend, I think it's because you're in love with his personality, just him, I guess." she explained.

"Yeah. I guess I am pansexual."

More like Natesexual. The guy's the only thing I'm attracted to. I wanna bang a Nate River, not girls or guys. I wanna love only Nate River.


	12. Chapter 12: Wonderful

**TW: **Mention of eating problems due to depression

IDODN

BTW, this chapter sucks and I'm sorry.

* * *

><p>"Do you mind if a friend comes over?" was the first thing I asked Dad the moment the front door shut.<p>

For some reason, his face was puzzled. He yanked off his scarf and gave a tiny frown.

"It's so late. What friend is this?" Dad unbuttoned his trench coat slowly.

"Uh, his name's Mihael."

Dad's eyes squinted. It was one of those squints where parents were deciding or not that their child is up to something sneaky.

But this wasn't the case.

"Is that Russian or something?" he kicked off his shoes and walked over, placing his hands on his dinner chair.

"I think he's Russian, yeah." I got out a few glasses for the two of us, (soon three, actually,) and sat across him.

"How cool, does he know how to speak Russian?" he reached for the pitcher of cold water.

Here come the annoying parent questions. I rolled my eyes on auto.

"Dad, I don't know."

"How come you don't know if your friend speaks his native language?" he raised a brow, taking a sip while at it. Good god, he is so provocative whenever new friends show up.

"I just met him dad." I sighed.

"Alright, alright, it's fine, he can join." he chuckled, "When will he be over?"

I glanced at the kitchen's clock. "Should be here in about ten minutes."

Dad sighed, "I'm hungry. Thank god I have manners, or else I'd start without he kid."

"Dad, be nice to him okay?"

Dad raised his hands in deafeningly, "Whoa, whoa, Nathaniel Lawliet River, when have I ever been mean to a friend?"

"Ugh, Dad, don't call me by my full name. Ever. Not just when he's here." I whined, "Just be cool... okay?"

"You've never acted this way around some friend coming over, what the hell is going on?"

Oh man, this is going to be an interesting night, then.

"Nothing's going on." I got up to get set the ready plates.

"Is he your _boyfriend_?" Dad said in a dreamy tone.

I flipped around to face him, "No!" I let out.

Too soon?

I was scared my face was going to turn red and then I'll definitely be caught by Rester about having _feelings_ for Mihael.

I want him to be my boyfriend, but I'm not going to tell Dad of all people that I like Mihael Keehl.

"Dad, remember that present I got? That was from Mihael. He's not my boyfriend, but he is really nice, so that's why I think it is important to show him we're not crazy."

"Because we are crazy?"

"We basically are." I nodded.

Soon after, I hear loud motor grunts from outside. Just as we thought that the motorcycles would pass, it got closer to our walkway.

Dad hated the sound of motorcycles. The louder it got, the more annoyed Dad started to feel.

The motorcycle grumbled silent and we both looked at each other.

I gulped.

It was probably Mihael, wasn't it? Oh, man.

We both walked over to our main window and stared down.

"Holy god, a motorcycle? Is this guy even old enough?!"

__Mihael... has to be a Junior right? Because last year on television him and his group of friends were said "Sophomores."__

__He's gotta be at least 16.__

__Is that even the legal age? I don't know crap about motorcycles! Oh, man.__

_"I guess...?" I tried._

Dad shot me a skeptical look before glancing back down at Mihael.

"Mhm..." Dad threw me an unimpressed tone before heading back into the kitchen. I had a small gulp stuck in my throat once I realized Rester was really not to fond of him at the moment.

I kept starring at him from the outside without a blink.

Damn, why is he so mesmerizing?

Maybe I was just nervous.

Was it because of Dad's approval – which wasn't actually so needed – I wasn't dating Mihael – or was it because of Mihael's approval of my mess of a home and oddball depressed father?

This was nonsense! I shouldn't have invited him to dinner! I'm so stupid!

And in my internal panic attack, Mihael takes off his helmet, and I literally almost have an aneurysm. He's so handsome.

I know we've already established that fact, but, hell, I had to say it again and I don't think I'll ever stop. With someone this attractive, you can't expect yourself to stop awing over their face each time you take a look.

His hair is literally shining from two stories away in the night.

How is that even possible?

My head is starting to spin.

And since when am I this crazy about someone? I actually barely even know Mihael in all reality.

I usually don't care this much about acquaintances but my heart is hammering, and I'm frozen in place from all these weird feelings.

Stop this. Right this instance.

What if he looks up and he sees me being a creep, just drooling over him like a hyena? This was so unacceptable.

Adrenaline.

I walk away before it's too late and he even sees me.

I can feel the red rush at my cheeks so I try to think about last night's episode of CSI to forget about Mihael for a moment. I need to get this embarrassing tint off of my face but he was about to open the door to my apartment home, and I don't remember one scene from last night's CSI except the opening credits.

Jeez.

I sit down in front of Rester slowly and zoom out on my fork. I stab the porcelain play for a moment until I feel Dad's worry glaze hovering over me.

"What's wrong?" he says softly.

It takes me a moment to reply because I'm distracted by Mihael's foot steps now echoing downstairs.

"Uh..." I blink at my fork trying to spot my reflection.

I don't have any stains on my face as far as the eye can see, but my hair is a bit frizzy.

I fix that quickly by licking my palms and ironing them over the top of my bangs. I give out a small sigh.

What if he'll think I'm really ugly?

Or weird? Dumb?

What if he'll leave early because Rester's crazy?

What if our home is too small?

Too many questions. My mind was going to explode.

The back of my eyes sting from the sudden disappointment this whole thing was bringing on me. I automatically started to breathe heavily.

This is to pressurizing

Don't ever invite people you are heavily attracted to or else it will seriously eat you alive and you'll eventually die.

Mihael's boots are tumbling up the stairs, in such a speedy pace too.

And when I thought I couldn't stress enough tonight ,all the worries and anxieties burst back inside me again, and this time, make it triple the last few panic attacks.

I looked at myself again a few more times and went over my current outfit.

Oh god, I'm wearing some pajamas, a shirt I got at Camp Puzzle Palooza from when I was eleven, and socks with baby sucks printed on them.

Why didn't I change? It's too late to change my clothing now!

I feel so stupid.

I groaned internally.

Hey maybe if I groan hard enough, I'll die. That's a good idea.

The door bell rings and I hear him faintly whistling a familiar tune I couldn't yet quite make out yet since I was panicking about everything and nothing at once.

Rester abruptly waved his hand in front of my face for my undivided attention.

I jump and blankly stared back at him. Oh god, I felt like a deer in headlights.

"GET THE DOOR!" he mouths furiously.

My heart skips a beat in reply. I didn't even notice I wasn't getting up.

Looking into Rester's eyes for a split second before I got up for the door, I knew they instantly read, "What the hell?"

I quickly tiptoed over and yank the chain lock open, then turn the nob, my heart pounding so fast, its moved its beat into my ears.

"Hey!" Mihael gives me his perfect toothy grin, and then my stomach does that melt thing I don't even want to get into.

"Hi." I smile back.

I examine his clothes.

I've never seen him dress like this. It's so different from his school clothes He's either dressed like some rock star from the 80's, or looks like he just came back from a fancy downtown club.

He's dressed in a great quality leather coat and it has a furry black hood, his pants are rich leather and to top that all of his belt looks like real silver with a realistically carved skull.

His parents must be rich. I heard his Mom is really pretty and young and works for a government branch, but his dad is twice as older, apparently in some Mafia (probably a rumor,) and works at a huge company in Manhattan, being one of the board of directors. And of course with that kind of situation, people can say his mother is just a gold digger.

Oh man, I'm not assuming anything about his mom, but damn do I feel like a dirty popular chick who spreads rumors now.

I just want to ask him if he just came from some popular kids party but I don't want to look nosy.

"Here, let me take that coat for you." I try to reach for it but he quickly starts to yank it off of himself the moment I asked for it.

"Nonsense, I'll take it off myself."

"You... sure? I somehow say this too late, the coat is already off and I feel like an idiot because I've been mesmerized at his bare arms (not to mention, really nice, neutral muscles, not anything too buff, which is just my liking,)

But trailing down to his wrists I see puckered scars and I wince away from that spot.

I feel that empty pit again.

__What? __Please tell me a dog bit him.

I keep repeating that excuse to try to ignore them.

But I'm not stupid.

I know it wasn't a dog.

And how could I just ignore it?

I look back up, catching my breath.

Mihael gives me a warm smile which was followed by his voice as soft as the grin shape.

"Yeah Nate, I'm sure," he nodded.

I'm not sure if he was pitying me for being stupid and slow or just being generally polite. Probably the first. I'm screwing this whole thing up aren't I?

There's a huge chance he thinks I'm such a loser. He's just too nice. He's probably doing this because he thinks I'm lonely or something.

When he unties his ankle boots rather quickly, Mihael looks straight into my eyes forthwith and I silently choke on my breath, causing me to stop my breathing for a second.

This was just like the first time I saw his eyes starring into mine back at the coffee shop with Gevanni, but this was more exciting and ore breath taking.

Though after a few more seconds of questionably starring right into each others eyes intensely, I look away.

His eyes are mom's eyes and I can't take it any longer.

I bit my lips together and stared at the floor, "You... wanna go eat now?"

"I'd love to." his soft kind tone continues, and it somehow just... soothes my nerves.

The moment we walk over Dad looks at both of us, wary, and slightly squints suspiciously. Oh god, he definitely noticed our odd eye intimacy back there.

Mihael stands awkwardly waiting for Rester to say something but he just keeps switching his gaze at us back and forth.

This goes on for two more agonizingly long seconds and Rester changes his facial expression almost instantly to the opposite mood.

By some means, he looked glad.

He reaches out his hand to shake Mihael's, "Hello, Mihael, I'm Rester, Nate's father."

"Hi, Mr. River, I'm pleased to meet you, thanks for having me over, it means a lot to join a dinner on such short warning." Mihael replies cheerily as he takes Rester's handshake.

"I'm not Mr. River actually, River is Nate's birth last name," Dad breaks the handshake first and gives me a speedy glance of approval.

This doesn't make me have any relief; this is bad. Really bad. If Rester approves, he starts to act really, really, weird and embarrassing.

"Alright, Mihael, let's cut to the chase here, are you dating my son?"

No.

_Rester, why?!_

Kill me.

I bit my lip, so hard, the gnaw tore of some stray skin. Mihael vastly started to blink in astonishment, "I-I'"

"Dad!" I groaned.

Lester interrupts, "It's alright, this is a homophobic free zone, it's completely fine if you're dating Nate."

Mihael replies with a small laugh, "No, I'm not dating your son," he glanced at me quickly.

My stomach churned at his ice eyes.

Does he take that as a joke? Am I just a joke? I'm not surprised, though. I am a joke. __Mihael wouldn't date me in a million years, __I reminded myself for the hundredth time.

I bit the inside of my cheek, trying not to feel more sick with myself. Dad, why did you have to ask that? Why couldn't you just let it go and believe me in the first place, ugh.

"Say, you're not a stripper are you?" Dad scanned over his outfit.

"Dad!" I drawl.

Rester completely ignores me.

He's never going to come back here again, my lovely father just called him a stripper.

I watched the blood drain from Mihael's face.

Oh, god, save us.

"N-No sir..." he tries but Rester just continues at it.

I'm about to jump out the window and escape to Mexico.

"Porn star?"

"No, sir, I'm sorry, if I – "

Mihael's white drained face started to redden back up but it kept going, stopping at the darkest red shade possible.

"Dad! You're making him uncomfortable! Stop!" I burst. I couldn't just stay quiet anymore.

"Are you a pimp then?" he looks at Mihael's belt buckle once more.

Mihael follows Rester's eyes and frowns.

Shaking his head was all Mihael could give Rester back anymore.

Well, it was nice knowing you Mihael, hope you don't hate me completely after this disaster.

"Are you in the mafia?" Dad squints skeptically again.

"O-_kay_, Dad, that's _enough_." I fluster. I put my hands on my chair and gestured towards our plates, "I think it's time to sit down and have a meal. Without calling our guest a stripper." my voice was tight.

"It's okay, Mihael, I'm just joshin' with you!" he smacks him on the back a couple of times, and also too hard, the pounding had the pressure range of as if Mihael was chocking.

"Is that what you kids say these days? Joshin'? Like joshin' as in I'm just messing around with you?" he scrubbed the top of Mihael's head.

"Alright Dad, please be quiet." I hissed.

Mihael bit his lips together.

"What? I'm just trying to be friendly!" he sat Mihael down next to me in Mom's chair.

I had my heart sink into my stomach again; no one's sat there for two years.

It was harder since Mihael had her eyes.

I quickly glance away and walk over to the fridge, "Mihael, what would you like to drink?" I scan around the fridge, "There's iced tea, milk, apple juice – Oh, and some chocolate milk." I shake the jug to see if there was a acceptable amount left to drink fairly for a dinner.

"Chocolate milk, please." he says instantly.

I blinked, "A-Alright."

Man, Mihael really likes chocolate. Couple of times when I spot him through the halls between morning classes he's eating a full general-sized chocolate bar.

I bring the jug out, reaching for my plain white milk,

Rester pipes up, "Nate, will you get the iced tea out for me please? Thank you."

I juggled all three containers over, trying not to drop my glass bottle for a messy scene. Also I don't want to end up looking like one of those over exaggerated clumsy people dropping stuff you see in Infomercials right in front of Mihael.

Dad's already embarrassed me enough tonight.

I quickly start to pour Mihael his chocolate milk before he can say anything because I predict he'll stop me.

And I was right.

"No, that's fine, I can do it myself."

This is awfully strange. Why doesn't he want me to help him?

Now I feel guilty. He's a guest and I'm not doing anything but having my father call him a porn star prostitute pimp who's also member of a mafia.

That doesn't even make any sense.

I frowned and walked over to our dinner waiting on the counter.

"So, what are we having for dinner?" Mihael smiled.

"Lasagna." I answered, slipping on oven mitts It still hasn't cooled down for bare hands – but I almost puked. Not only was I gagging when I was preparing it but I just wanted to puke now due to the thought I have to actually eat it.

Heavy pastas were the worst for me. I gulped the worry lump growing in my throat.

I almost forgot that I physically cannot eat.

Damn. How am I going to pull this one off in front of Mihael?

I know Dad won't say anything about this but this is still nerve wrenching in front of Mihael.

"L-Lasagna?" Mihael furrowed his brows.

"Yeah, you don't like lasagna?" Lester asked.

Mihael shook his head, "No, no, I'm fine. I love it, let's eat!"

It honestly took all my will power not to throw this up. I'm chewing so slowly, trying to swallow this goo peacefully, and when I try just a little, I gag it back into my tongue, unready. I put a small portion on mine and gave Mihael the excuse of eating too much at lunch.

Lester was giving me that worry eye, but he knew what I was playing at.

"So, Mihael, how old are you?" Lester took a quick sip of his tea, not taking his eyes off of Mihael.

"I'm almost 17."

"Ah. Junior?"

"Yes, sir."

"When'd you start driving the motorcycle?" Dad pointed his fork towards the window that viewed the front lawn and parking.

"I've been taking lessons since I was 14 years old. Started driving at late 15."

"How'd you get away with driving at 15? That's not normal." Rester raised a brow.

Mihael laughed, "Well... let's just say, my dad has... __connections__."

And as the words left his pretty lips, Lester started to choke. I pursed my lips at the thought and started to hit Dad's back to stop his violent coughing.

"I-I'm sorry! Are you okay? I was only kidding!" Mihael shook his hands in a rush.

"Well I guess, y-you got me back huh? It's alright." Lester limped over to the fridge for a glass of juice, the cough still caught in his throat.

Please, please, please remind me why the heck I invited Mihael for dinner?

Why couldn't we just hang out at his place or something?

I was done eating and it looks like Mihael lost his appetite due to all the stress of being polite in front of lovely Lester, here.

"Dad, Mihael and I are gonna go to my room..." I trailed, putting down my fork.

"O-Okay...?" he coughed.

I looked at Mihael, "You haven't even finished your food." he said quietly with a worried tone.

"It's okay... I'm not hungry." I gave a small smile, "You want go hang out in my room? Or do you have to leave?"

"Is that even a question? I want to hang out in your room." I giggled.

I almost blushed.

Is this even real? I'm probably dreaming or something. This is why the whole dinner is a disaster and now something really unrealistic is happening.

I got up with him and he followed, Rester yelled after us, "Don't you two go and have sex in there, alright?"

"DAD!" That was the last straw, really. When Mihael goes home, I'm seriously going to punch Rester. Not that it would hurt him, it would probably tickle, even if I tried.

"I am _so_ sorry." I whispered, turning to the hallway of Dad and I's rooms.

Mihael guffawed in response, "Don't worry, it's fine."

I let out a sigh that was heavier than intended.

I opened my door, hoping my room wasn't too uncool for Mihael. I mean, hell, I bet Mihael has a pin ball machine or something in his. Something along those lines if he's not into pinball.

Sheesh, I over think everything when I'm with him.

Is this a thing you do when you like somebody so much?

I never had this with anyone. Then again, I'm sure Mihael's the first person I actually really had a crush on.

I let him in first and slowly shut it after I came in in case Dad decides to yell anything embarrassing again.

I thought there wasn't much to look at, but Mihael's eyes were literally staring at every little thing my room had to offer.

What was so interesting about it? He was treating it as if it was a museum.

There were few more seconds of deep silence of Mihael examining until I finally broke the silence,

"I'm sorry it isn't much."

"No... You're room is so cool!" his voice was eager.

"Really?" I raised a brow.

What's going on?

He ran to my shelf of tin robots, "Do you collect these or something?"

I wanted to smack myself in the face again. I look like such a nerd! I have about three billion gazillion of my robots standing in perfect order. I kind of polish them from time to time so they don't look aged and gross, but this just makes me look like a complete dork.

What the hell do I say? He's only trying to be nice, isn't he?

"Y-Yeah..." I trailed.

"Whoa! That's really cool! I like them." he took my red one off of the shelf and rubbed his thumb over it's antenna.

I am so confused. I'm just going to go ahead and say something.

"I'm sorry I'm such a nerd." I shrugged.

He put it back gingerly and turned to me with a frown, "You're not a nerd." he whined sympathetically, "Why would you say that?"

"I don't know... I have all these robots, action figures, and puzzles and prep books, and stuff like that..." I gestured around my shelves.

"I don't think you're a nerd though. I have a bunch of prep books in my room too." he almost sat on my bed but stopped before he could crouch lower, "Sorry – Can I sit here?"

"Go ahead." I giggled.

He looked around my room once more.

"Really... there's nothing much..." I started.

His eyes stopped at my keyboard and he immediately sprinted over, "Your piano!"

I followed, "Well kinda..." I laughed half-hardheartedly.

I felt a bit embarrassed. He probably has a fancy piano at home, and we can't even fit one in our whole apartment; not just my sardine can room.

Mihael powered it on, "Look!" he breathed a smile. He began to play the part of Moonlight Sonata he was having a hard time with. I bit my lips together in thought.

I really... _helped_ Mihael Keehl?

He stopped, "See! I can do it perfectly now, thanks to you." his tone was zealous.

"I'm sure you could have done it without me." I waved it off, "I'm not that good."

"Nate... Look, my piano teacher couldn't even get me to improve at it, and we've tried loads of times. She's played for over twenty years too..." his voice turned into what sounded, a bit angry.

Was it something I said? Probably. I'm such an idiot.

I blinked, "I...I'm sorry..." I tried. I didn't know what to say.

Mihael pursed his lips, "You... wanna play me something?" he breathed a laugh.

__NO. __Oh god, what am I doing? I can't actually play that well, in my opinion. I loved piano with all my heart, but I'm not as good as he thinks I am.

I sighed.

I didn't want to make Mihael even more bored and annoyed with me, so I have to do _something_.

"Yeah." I faked a smile, "I'd love to." I put my hands to the keys and he moved his place for me to stand properly.

What the hell should I even play?

"H-Have... you written anything, yet?" his voice was now surprisingly uneven.

_Yeah, but they're all really mediocre but I've somehow won three crappy golden medals for them in middle school._

"Sure..."

"What do you mean 'sure?'" he chuckled.

I dunked my head low. I couldn't even look at him anymore. I haven't realized how drastically boring and lame and embarrassing my stupid tragic little life was up to this point.

"Well, I have, but at the same time, not really..." I tried.

"_Nate_." his voice was tight.

Oh god.

"Nate, look at me."

Nope. No. Not happening. I'm probably going to urinate myself.

He huffed, and before I knew it, his fingers were softly at my chin, bringing my head back up to face him.

This is all happening way too fast.

His hands cup my face, and he looks straight into my eyes, and I finally know why this feels like a Deja Vu.

It reminded me of the time in the Gym hallway where I told him I was gay.

This time, my heart's hammering even worse, my limbs are completely frozen but I'm still desperately dreaming for him to kiss me.

He should definitely kiss me this time, though.

_Not gonna happen, shut up._

"You're the most wonderful person I've ever met, now play me something."


	13. Chapter 13: Scar Memoir

Hello! Finally! It's here!

If you still do not know about the changes to the unabridged Incision make sure you go to a tumblr page with the url of jihad-says. Put a period after my name and then tumblr's website.

If you do, then it's your lucky day because you can continue reading in a jiffy.

IT'S FINALLY HERE PART ONE OF MELLO'S STORY.

Except I'm so sorry that this is only Part One so you'll only know half of what happened until the next chapter. It's still in Mello's POV;

The order of the chapters [Mello = Odd Chapter, Near = Even Chapter] are NOT changing though. Next chapter is special because afterward is also Near's POV.

I hope you get the gist; I know I'm confusing and I deeply apologize.

If I am confusing you, send me a PM and I'll answer aysap.

I don't own Death Note.

TW: Strong drug abuse, suicidal thoughts, self-harm thoughts and cutting scenes.

* * *

><p>When Nate puts his pretty fingers onto the keys, my heart goes wild.<p>

The first note, the second, the third; everything was perfect, in place, something I honestly can't just describe easily.

It's all a shock to me, each note passing by was giving me soul.

I couldn't believe what I'm hearing; it maybe even sounded all too familiar.

Except it didn't. Of course I had never heard this song before; but maybe this kind of beautiful melody is something my insides wanted me to put out into the world, but I couldn't quite ever find it.

But now it's here and it's lovely.

It's Nate.

That's what it is.

This song is Nate.

The sound was soft at first, gentle, careful, but hell, it still kept you hanging onto the edge of your seat, wanting more.

Melody shock.

It's so powerful.

I'm drifting apart from reality. Nate is only in view.

He is my soul, he is my heart, and I haven't ever felt more peaceful.

It's such a cold song, mysterious, some odd emotion too deep to grasp; but it does have some warmth.

The warmth its very stained with deep darkness, and yet still with pace and imagination.

God, it's perfect.

Everything cannot be more perfect in this moment.

Nate. The song which was both our souls colliding into each other, bursting with melancholy but with a lovely strange _peace_ together.

And then, as if it couldn't get any better, Nate breaks his beautiful piece down, but slamming on the keys to continue to the striking bridge.

It comes to you unexpected; the song is honestly such a son of gun, and it wont take you down with only one golden bullet engraved with the longing of wanting to listen to it forever.

My heart is skipping beats; my heart is pounding to the pressure every time Nate's fingertips pushed hard onto the keys.

This is a beautiful high; a melodic drug; my heart's pace is an addiction every time these notes broke heavily and cried, sobbed.

It was as if the song had finally reached its breaking point of being too soft and got down on its knees and wailed as loud as it could.

My eyes watered.

This was all too familiar.

This is what I longed for inside and Nate helped me find it.

But somehow this happened all too fast; the song was now simply over; sadly the keys wouldn't ring the lovely, scarce lasting of his song in aftermath; he had an electric keyboard.

If I could speak my thoughts on his written master piece it would be a passionate kiss right on his mouth.

I wanted to tell him I love him.

On an incredible high, my eyes still amazed, I fell backwards on his bed,

_"Wow."_ I breathed.

That was the most _real_, breath-taking moment I have ever had.

I don't get those breath-taking moments too often either.

I'm not one to love my life.

But now I could say I do; I get to be with Nate in this very perfect moment.

I'm so happy...

Happy.

Happy.

_Happy._

_ My heart. Is flickering._

Nate slowly walked over and frowned, "You alright? Sorry, that was pretty terrible. I haven't played that piece in a long time. I don't know why I chose that one. It just called to me. It was... in the moment. And I'm sor-"

I break his insecure tone off, I can't take it anymore, "Nate if you don't shut the fuck up right now, I am going to kick your ass, that was the most beautiful piece I've ever heard."

Nate blinked, "O-Okay, I'm sorry,"

"Don't be sorry, you dumby, I had the time of my life listening to that." I flicked his thigh.

"I'm s-s-o-orry."

I sit up on the bed and grab his face again, "Remember when I told you not to say the word sorry to me ever again?"

Nate nods slowly.

"Then why are you saying it now?"

"I don't know..."

I slammed back down, thinking.

Only a few moments later have I processed what Nate had told me about the song.

The piece he played for me; randomly came to him; it's how he felt in the moment.

Another sign, that this is perfect.

This is us.

I smiled huge, and closed my eyes. I have never dreamed of such a perfect moment.

I don't care, I'm high, might as well try this out;

"Lay with me."

"What?"

I didn't crack an eye open, "Lay with me."

"But it wont fit the both of us."

"Nate, please lay with me."

"You want me to crawl on top of you then?" he laughed nervously.

"Preferably, yes." I ordered in joke.

I opened my eyes and he was standing unsure of what was even going on.

I have no clue either, Nate.

"I don't bite, just come here," I gently grasp his pale wrist, and pull him on top of me, his head landing on my chest and his stomach against my hip.

Oh my god, my heart.

It's quickening like crazy, his body is against mine

My breathing hitched.

I should have thought this through – his ear is right against my heart beat, he's going to hear it drumming fast as fuck.

I'm such a creep!

Should I push him off before he realizes I'm completely in love with him?

But Nate doesn't say anything. Not one word.

All he does is snuggles his face deeper into my chest.

This feels so perfect. So what if my heart is dying? So what if he can feel it racing for him?

Whatever.

I can't just let this go!

I finally relax and take his smell in. Fresh linen, really nice smelling soap.

Ah, this scent is so cute.

This is the best thing _ever_.

I try to take it to the next level and start playing with his hair, pushing it back, twirling it and what not.

It's not long until Nate notices those ugly dumb scars I've left on my arm last year.

He winces, grabs my arm, and stiffs it in place.

"W-Why did you do this...?" his voice was sullen, "Why...?"

_Great._

Why did I?

Was there a reason? Of course there was.

But why the hell did Nate have to know?

"Don't worry about it. That's not ever happening again." I deadpanned.

Nate breaks and pushes up, punching my chest lightly, "No! No, I'm going to worry about it. Why wouldn't I worry about it?! That's not something to admire, Mihael! That's scary! It hurts!" his voice cracks.

"N-Na-"

I've never seen him like this. He's usually so content... calm... stoic.

"I'm serious! Mihael, that's not something to not worry about! No matter how old those things are, they're still there in view! And it's not pretty..." he pushed his hair back in stress.

I stayed quiet for a moment until Nate calmed down a bit and went back to leaning on my chest.

"They have a story, yeah. It's a long one."

_Children sadly show scars like medals. Lovers use them as secrets to reveal. A scar is what happens when the word is made flesh._

"...What is your story? I mean... I know the... but..."

"Yeah, I get it, it's alright, I know what you mean." I stroked his hair for comfort.

"Can I hear it?"

I gulped.

I have never had anyone actually ask me for my story.

They just assumed everything throughout rumors, the news, fake sources, and even a glimpse at my appearance.

I didn't know what to start with first. I didn't know how to tell it.

Will I cry?

I hadn't even ever got the idea that I'd have to actually live to tell the tale.

Fuck! Is this going to go bad?

My thoughts are everywhere, causing me into a choked silence.

"Can you tell me your story...?" he questioned again and tilted forward, snuggling his slope nose deeper into my chest. This made my face rush a crimson, his cute self just nestled onto my body, snowy locks spread in every direction.

My heart is bursting with illumination.

I almost forget how to speak.

And then in the dead silence of this odd connection of ours, he opened his mouth once more, a bit more impatient,

"Mihael."

My heart skips a beat whenever his voice says my name.

"Tell me." he said.

Within a few more unsteady heartbeats,

I told him my story.

* * *

><p>Ah. Let's see? Where do I begin?<p>

Right. Last year. **September**. Second year of Whammy Prep. Sophomore. Whatever.

I guess this shit wouldn't have ever started in the first place if it wasn't for one boy and one boy only;

"Class, this is Teru Mikami, he has started a few weeks late at Whammy Prep, he just came from Connecticut; so consider him as a new kid."

Roger Riue pushed this weird looking kid into Algebra, dark shoulder length hair, black rimed glasses, wearing a bright neon tennis jersey.

Mikami looked like he was forced into here, considering it's already two hours after lunch.

That kid's face crossed a haughty look.

"Hi, Teru." Everyone goes.

I don't say anything but I really don't remember why.

I look down back down to my note page and start to scribble the rest of an in progress doodle of Spiderman. (The movie just came out around that time and I thought his costume was pretty fucking wicked,)

"Hopefully you all, will give Teru a very nice warm welcome to Whammy. Good day to you all." Riue walks out of the classroom all pompous with his hands locked behind his back like always.

Wait, hold up, let me describe the seating situation; if it wasn't for assigned seats; my little fucked up situation would of _definitely_ never happened.

But, woe is me.

I am in the second to last row, last seat, right at the window along with its amazing (sarcasm intended) AC, and my favorite person of all fucking time, (sarcasm very intended) Light Yagami, sat right in front of me.

First week of school, this girl named Wedy sat next to me, but she died in a motorcycle accident; it was pretty traumatic for the whole school,

But what did this mean?

Free seat.

For Mikami.

So, Mr. Mogi obviously directs Mikami to sit right next to me.

I didn't care.

I watched the kid slowly walk over with a bored look until he passed Light, (who he himself was doodling and writing random stuff in his usual favorite black notebook)

Mikami's face went the other way around;

Mikami's face blanched at the moment he saw him.

He plops down in Wedy's desk, stunned out of his mind, I can see.

_Okay... then..._ I shrug my brows, click my tongue and get back to doodling;

Five minutes later, Mikami's face regains its original color and he whispers over to me.

_Oh great._

I pretend I can't hear him.

"Hey! Psst. You!"

"Psst!"

"Over here!"

"Hey, blonde girl,"

I finally crack, and slowly turn my head in annoyance to him, my look unexpressed, "I'm a guy."

"Sure," he nods and leans over closer, "Dude, who's that _hot_ piece of ass sitting in front of you?"

I blink.

Is he talking about _Light?_

I subconsciously turn to check if Light somehow vanished and a some girl magically happened to appear, taking his seat in the past five minutes.

"Uh, Light?" I answer Mikami; my tone is confused.

I was assuming Mikami was going to ask me for a pencil or if I had any gum or _something_. Jesus.

Light instantly turns around because he thinks I call for him,

"Yeah, man?"

I wave my arms in cross motion, "No, sorry, I didn't mean to... this kid just asked for your name and...?" I tried to explain, gesturing my head over to Mikami.

Mikami turns scarlet and gives Light a small nervous wave.

Light notices Mikami's clothing and his face lights up, "Hey! You play tennis?" he grins,

I roll my eyes, because last year all Light would ever fucking talk about is tennis and I got an earful each day.

I slump down in my seat from tiredness and ignore the two, praying that Mr. Mogi would be cool today and give us less packet work for homework like last week.

"Y-Yeah." Mikami stutters out his answer.

"So do I!" Light pointed to himself trying to act all cute, giving Mikami an excited childish smile.

_Really?! Never would have guessed! Haha! _I mocked Light at the back of my mind.

"I was the national tennis champion in eight and ninth grade!" Light bloats.

"Th-That's so cool." Mikami says, mesmerized.

_Oh god._ I roll my shoulders back and close my eyes, hoping the bell could just ring already.

"I'm Light Yagami." Light gleams in pride.

_Your name is fucking stupid, shut up._

"My name is spelled with the kanji for moon, but it's read as 'Light.'"

_Do you really HAVE to say that every single time you introduce yourself?_ _Ugh._

Yes, even back then I questioned why I was friends with Light.

"I'm Teru Mikami... I... don't really have any cool things about my name, but..."

"You guys, can you please be quiet?!" I whisper yell.

With my luck, the minute the words leave my lips, Mr. Mogi throws the board eraser at my head from across the room.

His motto is 'Talk shit, get hit, get embarrassed.'

Kids laugh.

And of course it flies right at my head; Mr. Mogi's throw is professional; he's been playing baseball since like, the fourth grade. He has medals and pictures at his desk.

I kinda feel sorry for him because those dusty trophies were just a reminder that he hasn't lived up to his expectations so now he's teaching algebra to asshole kids.

"Keehl! If you have so much to say to Mr. Yagami and Mr. Mikami, maybe you'd like to answer the polynomial on the board, hm?"

I sigh. The problem was too easy, I already knew the answer;

"Leading coefficient is negative therefore between x equals negative two and x equals negative one, the graph is above x axis and below x axis between x equals negative one and the other as well, equaling one, hence the y intercept is below the x axis." I tell Mogi in light-speed.

Mogi's face is disappointed, "Very good, Mr. Keehl, maybe next time try saying it slower." he rolled his eyes back to the board.

I grumbled and kicked at Mogi's eraser near my desk's metal leg stand, where the eraser had landed after it bounced off my head.

I already hated Mikami.

He got me in trouble.

I wasn't even talking; those two gave me the blame.

Light snickered, "Sorry, dude..." and turned back to view the board.

Mirari mimicked, "Yeah, sorry, dude."

_Fuck you._

* * *

><p>After school, there's football.<p>

Light and I are already down at the field; first ones there, actually.

Light's whining about how he forgot his Gatorade at home and he's asking for some of mine but I refuse because like I barely have any left.

"Alright, fine, can you lend me some money then?"

"I don't have any money, Light." I rubbed my forehead.

Something catches my eye; and by god, I'm freaked out.

Mikami is looking down at us (well, Light,) from the fence to the buses; basically drooling. His hands are tugging at the metal nets, and his lips are tugging a frown.

What the hell?

Light notices and decided to take advantage.

"Hey! You! Mikami! What's up?!" his tone is peppy.

All Mikami does is wave back to Light. Light gives a fresh sigh, "Wanna come hang with us for a second?"

Mikami is silent once more; his only response is a slow nod.

"Light." I groan, "C'mon leave him alone, don't use the poor guy."

But Mikami is already running over to the football stand gates.

"Hey, don't say I'm using the new kid. I mean, look he's eager to hang out." Light gives me a malicious grin.

"Fuck you, dude, that's just wrong." I grumble in whisper.

"H-Hi!" Mikami pants. He's all the way down to the Team's bleachers and I pray that the coach would just arrive already, tell Mikami he's not allowed to be here, causing Light to stop being a dick to the new guy.

"Hey, man," Light sits back against the wall and puts his feet up on the front bench, "Sit down, tell me about yourself?"

My left eye flickers in annoyance and my right is bulged out, irritated.

_Here it goes. _

Mikami blinks confused for a moment, "I don't know... where do I start?" his voice was small and shy.

"Well, how about telling me what happened for you to come to Whammy? Where you from?" Light closes his eyes.

I just roll my eyes and take a sip from my water bottle.

"Connecticut." Mikami blunts.

"Ah, did you move here? Parents relocated jobs?" Light said listlessly.

"No." Mikami shrugs.

Light cracks an eye open, "No? What happened?"

"Got expelled from school." Mikami says simply.

Light starts to nod in approval, that dumb _'not bad, not bad,' _pout and eyebrow furrow, "What happened?" he goes.

"They found my cocaine."

Mikami says it like it's nothing.

"How'd you get accepted with _that_ on your back?" I interrupted.

Mikami looks over to me, "I'm wicked smart. Duh. How else did you think I'd get in? Knowing how to change a hamster's cage?" he snorted, sarcastic.

My blood boiled.

I hated when people acted 'smart' with me.

"Look, you stupid fuck –" I almost got up, but Light pushes me back, putting his hand on my chest, "No. Mihael, I like him."

"Uh,_what?" _I hiss.

"Mikami. Dude. You're so fucking cool!" Light cheers.

Mikami's face brightened, "Really?"

He was acting like a puppy who hasn't seen its owner come home in years.

It sickened me.

Light nods, eager, "Hell yeah! You're awesome! Do you still do cocaine?"

"Is the sky blue?" Mikami joked, "Do you know how addicting that stuff is?"

"Man, you're great! Mind sharing sometime? How'd you get on it in the first place?" Light laughed in amusement.

"I didn't have any friends my age at school so I made friends with the college kids. They're much cooler. They even beat this kid up for messing with me after school once. It was awesome."

"That's cool – How much are you willing to sell some of that stuff?"

I gulp.

Light wants cocaine? Fucking really?

I take another sip, awkwardly, pretending I honestly didn't care.

"Well, at school I sold it 70 bucks a gram. But, for you, Light, you can have it for free."

Light grinned, "Wow! Thanks Mikami, you're great. Now I really, really like you!"

I snarled, inward.

"Anything for you!" Mikami piped in joy.

"Hey, actually Mikami, as you can see, I'm about to go out in the field and play some football," Light scratched the back of his head, "But I... don't have any money to buy Gatorade... I don't want to bother you, but..."

Oh shut up Light, with your stupid acting.

"I'll buy you some!" Mikami said, determined.

"Really?" Light smiled with encouragement, "You're so nice!"

Someone stick rusty nails in my ears, I hate listening to Light's fake peppy voice.

"See that vending machine over there?" he pointed to the furthest one as a test, across the field by the bathrooms and first aid stand, "That one has my most favorite Gatorade. It's the lime green one. But... I don't want to tire myself before the game by running over there that fast... maybe you could... you know... fetch it over there for me?"

"Y-Yes, of course! Anything! I'll do it!" Mikami pushed up his glasses before getting up and sprinting over.

I looked to Light, "You are such a fucking dick." I comment.

"Yeah, I guess, but I like this kid. He's totally obsessed with me. Should I be his friend? I mean, look; he's a fast runner, dude. We can get him to join football with us as well." Light shrugged, closing his eyes again.

"How about you let the kid do what he wants to do; are you really going to force him in to playing football with us so he can become popular, or whatever?"

"Well, yeah, what else am I going to do? I can't just hang with the new kid without a reason. Besides Aiber just died, dude... Mikami can easily take his spot."

"Hey man, Aiber was great..." I pursed my lips, "Don't just throw him away like _that_."

"If you want to make an omelet, you break a few eggs. It's how the world works, Keehl. We're not going to wait months to find a great reasonable player worthy to take Aiber's spot in respectability. What did you think was going to happen to Aiber's spot?"

I gaze at Mikami pressing at the vending machines buttons.

_Poor kid._ I thought.

Mikami races back with what seems to be all his might because he's clenching his eyes shut, "Light! I got you two of them!" he holds them up as he gets on his knees, "Just in case."

Light raises his brows in true surprise.

My mouth slightly gapes.

_Jesus Christ_, is he bowing down to Light? As if Light was a _god?_

After a few silent seconds, Light takes the Gatorades, puts them next to his Varsity jacket, and pulls an arm out for Mikami to get off of his knees.

Mikami gleams at it, takes it, and Light puts his arm around Mikami once he's on his feet,

"You're my friend now. We're hanging out later."

* * *

><p>After football Light and I take Mikami out to Light's favorite Japanese restaurant and Mikami gets the same thing Light does.<p>

I get spicy tuna, and chew warily as I watch the two converse.

"So, Mikami, this is Mihael. Mihael Keehl." Light introduces me as I'm awkwardly slurping Miso soup.

I gulped it down, "...Hi?"

Mikami nodded, "You're the guy girls talk about all the time, huh?"

"Sure." I shrugged and start taking more slurps but then Light smacks me unexpectedly hard on the back, and I spit-take.

"Hell yeah he is! I stole the cheerleader's poll book and he's number one in the hottest!" Light gives a cheerily thumbs up, "Isn't that great?!"

I roll my eyes and refrain from eating anymore Miso in case Light decided to beat my back again.

"Odd, I didn't know all the girls at school were lesbians." Mikami comments before slowly sipping green tea.

I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to contain my anger, "Ha. Ha. You're so funny, Mikami." I said, robotic.

"I try, I try." Mikami sneers.

Light laughs awkwardly before I can break, "Okay! Now that we all know each other;"

"How would you like to be part of the football team Mikami? We need a spot, and you're a great runner." Light pointed his chopsticks at him before digging back into his eel roll.

Mikami gives back silence for a few seconds as he chews, "Will Light be there at all times?"

"Yes." Light assures.

Mikami goes on, "Will I also be on the tennis team with Light?"

"Sure." Light nods again.

"Then we have a deal!" Mikami chirped with a huge smile, reaching his arm out across the table to shake Light's hand.

* * *

><p><strong>October<strong>

Mikami wasn't popular because he was on the football team, tennis team and he hung out with Light, the football team, and I; he was popular because he did and sold cocaine.

But no one on the football team had the guts to risk suspension or expulsion; they just lied that they did it or said that they like it but they're holding off on it.

Even that time around I actually didn't know if Mikami was doing cocaine or if he was lying to be cool in front of Light.

In only a few weeks, Mikami was with us 24/7.

When I'm walking to lunch with the team, Mail runs over and taps me on the shoulder,

"Hey!" he breathed, "You maybe want to eat lunch today? Like you know skip the team?"

I smile, I haven't seen Mail all day – I missed him,

I pause my walking, "Yeah – Maybe I – "

But then Light took me by the shoulder and dragged me back into the group,

"Dude, why are you talking to that loser?"

"I – I don't know... sorry..." I tell him.

That's when my heart sank because I remember turning around to Mail's eyes blinking in astonishment, surprised that I was leaving him for the first time to be with people I didn't actually even like.

He bit his lips in disappointed, gave a half-hearted wave and turned out of my sight.

* * *

><p><strong>November<strong>

In November Mikami gave three touchdowns and I gave two, one of them last second of the game.

Coach praised both of us the most but I got this odd feeling that Mikami wasn't doing anything for the team; every time that kid made a touchdown he looked for approval on Light's face.

An after party happens, and that's when I see that Mikami isn't lying.

This chick named Takada undressed for Mikami in the study on the second floor of Light's house and he did cocaine off of her stomach.

I remember I almost threw up, because I couldn't bare looking at that chick take off her clothes. But I had to.

Fucking hell.

Light's cheering and telling Mikami how much Mikami is his favorite person in the whole wide world but then proceeds to make out with Takada.

I sit and eat chocolate as I watch a few kids do dumb shit;

Neylon even threw up under Light's desk from drinking too much.

I didn't touch a thing that night but the cake; I could admit I was too much of a pussy to do things like that.

No one else did cocaine that night except Mikami showing off his addiction, and Takada's dumb stomach.

* * *

><p>Somehow I went home feeling empty inside.<p>

I called Mail up.

It was three in the morning, but he usually stays up until 4 playing World of Warcraft

He picks up on the very last ring.

That's when I know, he's definitely in game.

"Hello?" he says, distant.

"Yo!" I laugh awkwardly.

"Oh, hey... what's up! Nice last minute touchdown today. Sorry I couldn't make it."

"Thanks. Ugh I'm so tired. I just came back from Light's big game after-party and you'll never guess what just happened."

"Hm?" Mail goes.

"That new popular kid Mikami? He actually does cocaine. Did it right off of Takada's stomach." I groaned in disgust, as I rubbed my forehead.

I lay back on the couch when Halle comes downstairs, groggily,

"You're finally home." she groaned.

I nodded but then pointed to the phone so she could be clued in I'm taking to someone else.

"Wow. Lucky. Takada's so hot." Mail sighed, jealous.

"Mail!" I laughed, "Dude, I mean, like, this guy... this guy's for real. This guy's dangerous. He got expelled last year for selling the stuff."

Halle overhears the conversation as she's pouring herself some milk, "What?! Who's this we're talking about here?"

"Hold on, Mail," I turn to Halle, "It's nothing... we're just talking about a TV show."

Halle squints and waves me off,

"Well goodnight, you better be upstairs in your room soon, or I'll kill you." she bounces back up to her room.

"Sorry," I push my hair back and waver back into the line, "If Halle found out about Mikami, she'd flip out... and, you know tell the school or something."

"Man, he's so fucking lucky though, Takada's such a babe." Mail whined.

"Dude, I swear he's gay, and Takada likes Light, they were sucking face all night."

"Why is Mikami gay?"

"Well, I don't know if he's _gay_ but he's definitely in love with Light..."

"Whoa, what? Are you sure you're not just saying that?"

"He does everything that Light says... the reason he even did the blow off of Takada's stomach was because Light told him to."

"Yeesh. Maybe it's just for popularity. Light is the most popular kid in school along with you."

"No, I'm not joking. Even before he knew Light – he sat next to me in class – and he goes, 'Who's that hot piece of ass sitting in front of you'? I was so confused." I dropped my head on one of the couch pillows and took a deep breath in.

"I really need to change, I'm beginning to sweat in the leather." I commented briefly.

"So he's doing everything Light says because Light's _hot?"_ Mail tried.

"Ugh I don't know –"

There's an odd beep coming from my phone and I think the battery's dying but it ends up that an unknown number is calling me.

"Mail – Hold on someone's calling me...?"

"Who?"

"I don't know, blocked number, hold the line, probably just a marketer,"

"Okay."

I hit the green phone button to answer, "Hello?"

"Mihael? Hey, it's Mikami."

"Mikami? Oh, hey... what's up, man?"

I completely forgot I gave him my number the second week I've known him.

"Should I kill myself?" he says casually.

I burst immediately; "Whoa – whoa – whoa! What?!"

"I'm on top of the roof of my house – should I kill myself?"

"What?! So if you're automatically on the roof of your house you have to be complementing suicide?! Where are you parents? Family?"

"I'm an only child. Parents are on a business trip."

"You're alone? Who drove you home from Light's party?"

"I walked and then took a bus. I'm not so far away from God's house."

"Hold up; _God?_" I sat up and took off my shirt.

It was getting too hot.

"Light. I call Light 'God 'now. Because Light is my god."

I am strongly against this choice, but I choose to ignore that at the moment.

"Nevermind Light – why do you wanna kill yourself? At four in the morning?"

"Does it matter what _time_ I want to kill myself, Keehl?" he sneered.

"Okay – sorry – not time. Just tell me why – talk to me – don't do it."

"Because Light told me to."

"Light told you to kill yourself?!"

Light, you idiot!

This is going way too far.

"Does he know you're on top of your roof right now trying to kill yourself?"

How tall is his home anyway? Must be a generous height if he feels that if he would jump off, he'd _die_.

"No. But... Light is not the only reason."

"... Well... what is..."

"I'm depressed too, you know."

"W-Why?"

"Well, last year, no one at school liked me, so it really hurt me. I got depressed and started cutting myself."

I winced.

"Like... hurting... yourself?"

"Yeah. With a razor blade or a knife."

"Why did you feel the need to do that?"

"Ah. You've never cut before huh? Well, it makes your problems go away for a while. It releases you. You don't care. And you can control the pain too. Something you can't do with the usual, normal emotional pain. Also if you hate yourself; it will bring you justice. There's lots of reasons. I do it for all of them."

I'm blown away so I'm a silent for a moment.

"If you have a lot of pain, you should try it sometimes. It really feels good." he said.

I gulp.

"Uh..."

"So should I kill myself?" Mikami asks for the third time.

"No. Light was just kidding, Mikami, it's alright..."

"But even if Light never said that... should I?"

"No, Mikami... go to bed."

Everything was so nauseating.

I tried not to think of the word 'cut.'

All I could picture was bleeding arms, and blades deepening into skin and even bloody scenes from Japanese sword movies whenever they'd stab themselves.

"If you say so." Mikami hangs up.

I feel like throwing up.

Everything was so... pressurizing.

Mail still on the line,

"Mihael?"

I'm still silent, stunned.

"Yo, Mihael, I hear you breathing."

I trail back slowly to the line, "Uh... yeah... hi... I'm uh... going to bed..."

"Oh... alright, who was that?"

"No one."

* * *

><p>When I'm in bed I think and I think and I think.<p>

How could anyone hurt themselves? How could anyone like it?

What if I did it?

I'd never do that!

But what if?

What happens if I do it?

How does it feel?

What's going to drive me to do it?

Wait...

I reach under my bed and throw my hand around in each direction;

I have a pocketknife under here; I know I do...

Bingo.

I breathe in.

And I play around with the switches for a moment, not taking my eyes off of it.

When I pull the knife out, I start to get a panic attack.

What is this pressure I'm feeling?

Is this how you start?

I don't want to do this! I don't want to do this! I don't want to! I don't! I don't! I don't!

Stop!

I lightly press the blade to my skin, and it feels cold from the steel.

When I finally realize what I'm doing and can't handle the screaming thoughts swirling around in my head anymore; shaking me; I throw the knife across the room, turn away to the opposite direction.

And everything goes silent.

I will never cut myself.

Ever.

* * *

><p><strong>December<strong>

I had turned my sixteenth year, on the second week of December.

The party, I decided, wouldn't be the biggest.

I just didn't want anything to get out of control. If I actually had added all of the kids begging me to invite them onto the guest list, the party would've had more than one hundred quests that would probably trash my house with a mess that would take years to fucking clean up. That was my biggest fear if I invited a whole ton of kids. Who wouldn't fear that shit? I mean, I'd see high school or frat parties in movies. Fuck that. I was incredibly scared of kids having sex in my room or smoking weed in there, Halle's 20,000 dollar vases being tossed around like a pigskin. Instead I told them I'm having a family party.

I invited, Mail of course, a few other kids I really liked, the football team along with Jack Neylon, Zakk, Light and Mikami over to my house for a Birthday dinner. The thing is, I felt bad for leaving Mail by himself after a few chats with him. I barely even got to talk to him, because I was too focused upon Light and Mikami. I remember when I had looked back to see what Mail was doing before I took off with Light and Mikami to my room. He was blankly staring at a piece of Turkish Delight and poking at it with his pointer finger. He looked so lonely.

Jesus, how my stomach dropped when I saw how much of a bad time he was having.

It was like I favorite Light and Mikami, which sickened me.

As I took my last glance at Mail being ignored and isolated from all the other kids, I turned back to Light and Mikami; they were rushing me and urging me to get away from everyone else, and for me, it felt so wrong, but I couldn't show it, because I was scared I'd show up as some kind of pussy. I locked the door behind me, and Light yanked Mikami's iPod out of Mikami's backpack and started to blast his freaky heavy metal.

If I was Mikami, I would sock Light straight in his stupid fucking face for invading my personal items like that, but Mikami, let Light do anything.

If Light told Mikami to get on his knees right now and suck his dick, Mikami wouldn't hesitate.

It's obvious he full on _worshiped_ Light. I mean, he even gave him the nickname of _God_.

"Did you lock the door?" Mikami had sat down on the floor, crossing his legs, rustling through the rest of his backpack.

"Um, no, why?" I shot him a unwary look.

"We need to get away from the others, they aren't like _us_, you know what I mean?" Light joined Mikami on the floor.

I laughed. I tried to go along, but I had this feeling in my stomach that this was all wrong, isolating all my other guests. Not once did I do this kind of shit, I would usually be polite and talk to everyone. That's what Rod and Halle taught me to do, and now being away from that lifestyle I felt as guilty if I just murdered them all.

"Okay... so what are we doing? Just chilling...?" I walked over to my door like a zombie and clicked the lock shut.

"Yeah, you can say just chilling." Mikami shrugged, and looked at Light. Both nodded.

"Your parents are all the way back in the kitchen, right?" Mikami took out a his wallet and took out a two of his credit cards. He gave Light his hundred dollar bill, "God, take my bill. I want you to have the most fancy expensive experience."

"Why, thank you Mikami." Light's voice was pompous.

What the _fuck_ is going on?

Mikami then proceeded to take out a plastic zip-lock bag.

A zip-lock bag of white.

I think you get the gist.

"What's that?" I was bluffing.

Of course, I completely knew what was in the bag.

"Coke, dude, no biggie." Light said. Something about Light always calmed me down, and gave me assurance. He made everything sound alright.

So if it wasn't Light who told me doing cocaine was 'okay', I would've said the next thing completely scared out of my mind.

"Yeah, cool, okay." I tried keeping a rather calm tone, "Are you going to snort it...? In here?"

"Who cares Mihael? Your dad probably snorts cocaine everyday."

"Look, he quit in '97... and that really doesn't mean Rod's not going to smack us so hard that our mothers won't even recognize us..."

"It's cool, the door is locked... Your parents are in the kitchen, they don't know we're in here." Mikami started to unzip the bag.

"Yeah, last time I checked that isn't code for time to snort cocaine." I joked. They didn't take me serious, and guffawed.

I'm not going to fucking lie, I was _so_ scared.

These were _hard_ drugs.

You get addicted? You're fucking _done_.

Your stomach disappears, you lose tremendous amount of weight, you get bad headaches, tremors and you get serious case paranoia.

Hell, that's not even all of them.

"Sit down, Mihael and stop stalling, let's not wait for the grass to grow." Light ordered. I sat down across from them, shaking up again.

"Hey, move your coffee table over here, will ya?" Mikami gestured.

I'm fucking 16 years old.

This wasn't what I should be doing.

But. I was the one who let it happen. I was the one who listened, and the one who hadn't said anything. I was the one who let them control me. I was the one who pushed my coffee table over to my rug, and, hell, I wasn't the usual guy who let people tell me what to do. This was because I cared about what they thought.

Why? I could never really acknowledge. But whatever I did with them, made me the fucked up person I am today.

At least it made me learn that if I kept kidding myself like this around Light, caring what Light thought, I wouldn't end up _myself_, not by just snorting fucking cocaine like a rock star junkie, but in the worst way by not knowing who I really am, and meant to be.

I had just become Light's little reckless confused worshiper. I didn't want to end up like Mikami. Worshiping Light didn't end well for him.

No _one_ should want to end up like Mikami.

This is when Mikami starts to pour the contents out on the coffee table, and Light starts to take Mikami's credit cards to chop them up into three separate lines.

I gulped.

What the fuck am I doing?

Mikami takes out a few more bills, wraps it up into into a cylinder and hands me one, I take it and Mikami turns to Light, who's done with the lines.

I slowly sit inside the gap between Light and Mikami, trying my hardest not to piss myself from the pressure. (Which was seriously scaring me to fucking death.)

"God, can you give me the bag? I want to make me two more lines."

I clenched whenever Mikami called Light, _God_.

"Whoa, whoa, two more lines?" I flabbergasted.

"This isn't my first time." Mikami gave the bag a malicious grin.

"Wait, what, how come Mihael and I only get one, Mikami?" Light squints at him.

"First timers should start out with one." Mikami nodded in approval at his two new lines, "Or else you guys will be seriously _fucked_."

"Look, I don't mean to sound like the party pooper, but seriously, I don't think this is a good idea..." I finally burst.

"Dude, cocaine is good. Just teach yourself how to survive the depression and sleep patterns when the come down hits you and you'll be a pro at it in no time." Mikami shrugs it off.

"Stop being a pussy, Mihael, I shouldn't expect this shit from someone with a dad who's the leader of a mafia." Light rolled his eyes.

How the _fuck_ is this not bothering you _at all_ Light?

You're fucking _insane_!

Okay... think... I'll just do it once tonight... If they invite me in the future, I'll just tell them I have too much homework. But shit, once _already_ should be enough.

If my thin knowledge on drug science is correct, this is _obviously_ going to mess with my Dopamine and Serotonin pathways, which will make me _fucked_ either way.

It's mixed with all that shit, euphoria, pleasure, compulsion, sleep pattern, cognition, mood.

Rod's definitely going to notice, he's done it for ten years straight.

Fuck.

* * *

><p>We all took a drag at the same time.<p>

Oh, hell, did my nose _burn_ at the first snort.

I tried to breathe in but there was a rigged lump in my chest, preventing me to complete my deep breathing technique.

I panicked and sniffed as hard as I fucking could to get the rest of it up my nostrils.

Sniff.

Sniff.

Snuff.

I only remember the quick euphoric buzz and my veins rushing at the highest rate I've ever felt flow, my heart pace started to pace faster and faster. It gave me a drip at the back of my throat.

I was all clenched up and shaking.

I forgot where I was.

I was looking down before I had inhaled again, leaving me only zoned out at my white line, feeling like a train hit just me.

When I had finally snapped out of it, I flipped. Happiness and fear had collided.

"Holyshit! Thatwassofuckingawesome!" My voice suddenly went twenty times more rapid.

I bent back down and positioned the bill to my left nostril again.

"Don't forget to press your thumb to the opposite nostril, idiot." Mikami reminded me.

"See? It's not bad." Light gave out giggle.

Sniff.

Sniff.

Snuff.

After a few more, I started to hear a strange ringing through my head.

I shook violently once more.

"So this is what you did all last year with college kids? Feels so great." Light giggled.

"Oh, hell yeah..." Mikami bent down for another quick snort.

"Then you got expelled for selling it, huh?" Light violently brushed off the bottom of his nose.

"Yeah, they searched me down.. found it and then I got the boot." he sighed.

"Man, I can't believe they expelled you, forthis? Thisisgreat!" I smacked Mikami on the back.

"They don't understand nothing!" Mikami laughed before dunking in for his last line.

Light and I proceeded to do the same.

Sniff.

Sniff.

Snuff.

Sniff.

Sniff.

Snuff.

Gone.

"Ohshit! Minesallgone!" I reached for the bag which was next to Mikami's elbow but Mikami jerked it away as if he was choreographed.

"_Whoa_! Easythere, hot shot. Youwannadieonyour Sweet Sixteen? You _wish_." Mikami gave a wicked witch of the west kind of laugh.

My eyes bulged in anger, and just when I thought my heart wouldn't race any faster from all that speed – long story short – it fastened in a way I can't remember to describe anymore.

All my joints were jerking, jumping and pulsating. I stared at my fingers shaking in every direction.

I took a glance at Mikami and Light. They both had glassy eyes.

"Are you guyssupossedto have glassyeyes?" I shook.

"Duh. Youhaveglassyeyestoo." Mikami punched me.

I shivered even harder.

Shit.

* * *

><p>With the huge rush, you get a over inflated ego. You think you're the shit. You think you're the boss of everyone around you. You say what you want to say without any hesitation or thought put into it. If someone annoys you, you tell them. If you wanna make out with someone, you go for it. If want to get into a fist fight, you do it. You don't think of the consequences, you just become less afraid of everything overall.<p>

After a good ten minutes, all three of us were finally a bit calmer.

The downside is, is that we felt like shit. It's called the "come down."

"Am I supposed to feel like I wanna kill myself?" Light sighed, annoyed.

I wanted to ask the same thing.

"Yeah. Oh, by the way, prepare not to get any sleep tonight. This is your first time." Mikami did an evil laugh.

"Ugh." Light fell over from exhaustion, "Someone bring me some potato chips and some porno mags to jack myself off to sleep to."

"Should we clean up?" I exhaled, rubbing my temples for comfort.

"Shit!" Mikami suddenly started to violently shove all the contents on the coffee table into his bag. The zip lock bag, credit cards, bills, wallet, even some left overs of the powder flew inside.

Closing his bag, he started to drag his hands over the tabletop to slide the extra coke dust off onto my sheepskin carpet.

Wow, _great_ idea.

I know it's white, but, fuck, now I have to vacuum, thanks a lot Mikami.

"I hear footsteps!" Light sprung up from his hopeless moping with a scream.

I ran as fast as I could into my closet to get a few cans of soda out of the mini fridge and picked up a deck of cards from under my bed.

I wiped my nose a few more times just in case and sat down beside the other two, when the door had a loud knock.

I winced, paranoid it was Halle or worse, _Rod._

Light and Mikami were paralyzed.

I opened the deck of cards and scattered them around the table and Light and Mikami started to open the cans of harmless soda.

"W-Whoisit?" my voice was still stimulating.

"Mail?" there was a questionable giggle caught in his throat.

"Oh. Coming."

I gave out a breath relief.

Mikami and Light start to put a fair amount of cards into their hands to make it look like we're playing a game of poker.

I do the same in a jiffy and run over to open the door for whatever Mail wanted.

"What are you doing? Everyone's looking for you." he said with a smile. He was always smiling. Mail's smiling face always gave me hope, it always cheered me up.

But this time, my mind was racing in panic elsewhere.

"J-Just.. playing Go Fish." I jitter, caustically walking back to sit next to Light.

I take the cards back into my hands, "W-Who's turnisit, guys?"

I wanted to smack myself silly when I noticed my hands were still trembling in the open just by holding up lightweight paper cards.

"Go fish." Mikami drops a card onto the table with shaking fingers and takes a sip from his pop can.

"Mihael?" Light nudged me.

"What?" I pushed, but Light leaned over closer.

"These are _tarot_ cards." he drawled into my ear with a hushed tone.

I looked down and scanned over the cards in my hands.

Queen of Pentacles, The Magician, Death, Wheel of Fortune, The Sun.

_Fuck_.

He scanned us over, and his grin faded, into a shocked, suspicious face.

Oh, _shit_.

I cautiously tried to breathe in through my nose if there was any _clues_ under it.

Mikami started to wipe his nose when he noticed me attempting to do my last minute check up.

Light instantly looked away and took a sip of his cola.

It was terrifying; Mail had never looked at me this way before.

Mail started to squint closer at our noses.

Light rolled his eyes as he noticed Mail's investigation.

"Go away, _loser_." Light snarled. Mikami stayed silent from his own paranoia.

I guffawed, "Yeah, Mail, seriously, just fuck off."

Mail's face now transformed into shock and hurt.

"Um, okay." I remember before he went out the door all Light and I did was laugh.

* * *

><p>For the rest of the night I was frozen from the look Mail shot me. It's been 7 hours after the cocaine but, I was still in my "come down" phase Mikami told Light and I about.<p>

But it didn't stop me from writing about sick fucked up shit in my notebook like I did every night. I don't remember the story I was writing, but I think it revolved around some schizophrenic guy who brutally drove over two construction workers.

Light was on a futon next to my bed, spending the night. He was writing with me, in his usual black lined notebook.

"What are you writing about?" he asked with a dreamy voice. It had a strange diabolically evil tone to it.

I snickered, "Murder. What are you writing about?"

"Murder."

We laughed in unison.

"Are you writing fictional deaths?" Light asked afterward.

"Yeah. The characters _are_ fictional. Are you?" I leaned over the edge of my bed to look at him.

He chewed on the leftovers of my party's potato chips.

"I'm pretending like my notebook can kill people if you write their full names and obituary inside it. I'm writing about deaths of all the kids I hate at school." his face was boastful.

"Jeez. You're one sick puppy." I frowned and flopped back up onto my mattress.

Light yawned with a stretch, "I am _justice_." he corrected.

* * *

><p>After we had lights out, I had anxiety overwhelm me.<p>

The cocaine was still in my system, and I was rolling around rapidly non stop, my vision blurry.

Mail was supposed to stay the night as well, but he declined he actually 'agreed' when Halle had asked him why he was going home after the party.

When I snuck out to get Light his potato chips only about ten minutes after Light and I told him to fuck off, I tip toed over to the kitchen praying to God Satan and Buddha, that Rod wouldn't see me, because Rod would definitely beat the shit out of me if he found out I just did cocaine, and I was obviously still noticeably fucked up on it.

When I opened the fridge to get a chocolate milkshake for myself, I spotted Mail and Halle chatting at the front door and my stomach knotted.

_"Hey, Mail, honey, your mom is picking you up? This early?I thought you were spending the night?"_

_ "Oh sorry, Mrs. Ross, I never said I could spend the night, I don't think I can, Maybe Mihael forgot to tell you."_

_ Halle looks concerned but she opens the door for him, and gives a tainted smile. _

_ "Sorry, again..." he trailed out the door, with an apologetic smile._

He never said bye to me. He always said bye to me.

I bet he hated me.

And he should have hated me.

I felt so sick that I treated Mail like a piece of shit.

Around two in the morning, I ran over to the bathroom to throw up from my anxiety attack and the cocaine's come down.

I didn't sleep the whole night when I had stopped puking.

Again the cocaine kicked.

I didn't stop squirming around in bed.

I thought I didn't need sleep, I thought it was perfectly fine that night to stay up and just think about things.

All I wanted, was cocaine again.

The craving spun endlessly like a broken record inside my head.

_One more time and that's it._

_ One more time and that's it._

_ One more._

_ Time._

_ And that's._

_ It._

But unfortunately, it didn't work out that way.

Next Thursday, Light was talking about Whammy's Christmas Winter Formal. He convinced me to go, he convinced the Football team, tennis team, and obviously Mikami.

I called Mail up, wondering if he could come or if he wants to ask anyone.

Mail said he didn't want to come, and hung up.

I know he didn't really want to be around me anymore.

He still surprisingly talked to me the week after my birthday, but neither did he seem too comfortable around me.

I felt like shit whenever I saw him walk down the hallway, and just smile blandly if we met eyes, (which I didn't even deserve from him,) instead of the usual hand slap, verbal greeting or whatever.

* * *

><p>Biggest Change | Mid December<p>

I came home, giddy that after tomorrow, was going to be the start of Winter Vacation, probably my most favorite Holiday Vacation. I loved snow, I loved Christmas, and two weeks off, It was just so giddy. Usually when I got home, mom was waiting for me in the kitchen to give me food, and the television was on, and she would be chatting loudly on the phone. But it was dead quiet when I got back.

Clueless, I started to call for mom. I heard Rod's muffled voice.

"Dad?"

"Yeah, I'm home." he called back.

He doesn't get back until ten.

Something was definitely up.

"Why? Where's mom?"

"I'm home too." she said. They were in their bedroom.

"Why are you both here?" I asked.

"Um, there's been a problem, and we're discussing and trying to solve the problem." she continued. I made my way down the hallway.

"What's the problem?" we all faced each other.

They both paused.

For a second, I thought that they found out about the cocaine.

Then, they both glanced back at each other, uneasy.

"No. I'm getting this over with. We can't live like this, we can't wait any longer," dad announced briefly. His voice was shaking, which made me scared out of my wits. Rod's voice never shook.

"Mihael, you're going to Russia this summer." Halle interrupted, before Rod can speak again.

"Huh?"

"Oh, okay, make it harder, be a bitch!" Dad started to yell at her.

"I have to do everything around here! I'll do the talking! This is not your decision! Being a bitch about this is the better way around! Put yourself in his position, you wouldn't want it shot out at you!" I think I saw her tear up a bit, while she was screaming back.

I interrupted them both before I

"Are you getting a divorce?!" My voice cracked.

"No, no!" Halle moaned sympathetically.

"No, that's not it." Rod shook his head surprised.

"Why am I going to Russia? Why are you yelling?" I cried.

"We had gotten a letter, from a special someone that they would like to see you." she tried saying it encouraging and happy, but it came out more urged.

"Who's the special someone in Russia?" I said utterly confused.

"Your mother." dad blurted out. Mom whacked him. He didn't wince though, Mom couldn't hit, even if she tried hard to.

"Mom's right here?" I raised my eyebrows.

Dad snapped over to mom, from impatient annoyance,

"You know, we should have told him when he knew what words meant. Like, age four? See how pathetic you made us?" he groaned and sat down on their bed, burying his face in his hands.

Mom didn't say anything. It was like an assurance she couldn't argue to, because he was right.

"Tell me what? Please just let it out, I'm confused, and tired... Please don't get a divorce, I don't want us to be apart." I remember I was sobbing a bit too loudly.

"Mihael, for the last time we are not getting a divorce, Me and your mother... we just sometimes disagree on things, okay? It doesn't mean we are getting a divorce, so don't bring that up anymore... It's a kinda scary." he assured me.

"Um... not me... your other mom." she continued quietly.

"I don't have another mom." I knit my eyebrows, wiping my cheeks off with my sleeve.

"Mihael, I am not your mother. When I mean your other mom, I mean your actual other mom." she said it so slowly and rationally, her eyes clenched closed.

I was stuck in the whole moment. The whole agonizing, painful explanation took about a lifetime to be stuck in, but once it whizzed by, the moment felt like it had happened years and years ago, and the shocking, shocking, speechless pain shot through me.

And it hurt. And it scared me.

I just couldn't speak.

The shock, just paralyzed my brain.

I felt sick, and nauseous. I wanted to faint.

"Y-You're not my mother? Mom, what... mom... you're my mom... you've been my mom since December 12th, what are you talking about?" I threw in a few laughs in that sentence, I was trying to feed myself something to believe. I still don't remember what I wanted to believe in, but there was a burn of want striking through me. I still wasn't getting what they were trying to tell me. This little thought had buzzed in the back of my head that they really weren't my real parents, and that they had just told me the truth, but I ignored it because I mainly tried to prove to myself that scary nonsense like this couldn't be actually true in any way or be even possible.

"I've been your adoptive mother since February 10th, Irina Keehl, has been your birth mother since December 12th."

My head spun, and my stomach dropped, and I shook.

"Who?!" my tears started to swell again. I couldn't believe any of what came out of her mouth, that all I just let out was a simply word, instead of the mess I really wanted to say.

"Your biological mother." dad said.

Each word they were saying was like a blow to the head to me.

"No, she's not... Halle Bullock is my biological mother, and you're my biological father... why are you saying such things? Mom... dad's trying to be funny again..." I cried.

"I'm not mom... I'm Halle." she had this tone that I couldn't forget as well. It can replay in my head perfectly to this day, probably because it was that last blow I took to the head to make me realize, that she is not my real mother, and Rod wasn't my real father. It was like a sad, sorry tone that said "I give up."

I burst.

"You lied to me, for sixteen years? You lied to me, and fed me bullshit, that I was your own child? You adopted me from someone and didn't bother to tell me for _fifteen_ years that I was adopted? Did you forget? Did you forget that I wasn't the child you really milked, or gave birth to? No? So I guess, if you didn't forget you lied, to me, for fifteen _straight_ years, and tell me now, when my real mom, who I haven't even heard of wants to see me now?"

"Yes." was all she could say, tired, and weak. She didn't deny anything. That's what I liked about mom, she gave up when It was really all fairly over. She didn't keep pushing more crap onto people.

"I'm adopted?!" I cried harder, that my voice started to skip.

"Yes." she whispered.

"You're not my real parents?" I said more in denial, now. I couldn't let it go. It was like a sorrowed mood swing, to be exact.

"Yes." they both said.

_No_. _Let's go back, let's go back, tell me it was a lie, tell me we'll be okay!_

"Fuck you! Fuck you! Go to hell."

And, I ran to my room; slammed the door. It felt like I've been shot through the head, but I was still alive, feeling the full blow, and bullet, make its way through my head, painfully. I guess from that point, I somehow knew I wasn't a mentally healthy person at all. It all broke to me, that I was fucked up all along. I guess that was the beauty of it.

* * *

><p>I couldn't look at them. I couldn't talk to them. I couldn't bare that I was living in the same house. I was pretty sure I was living a lie up to this point, and I felt damned, and betrayed. After I locked myself in my room, They haven't bothered me since the fight, and I could understand why. I remember how glad I was they actually acknowledged that this really wasn't a time to talk about things. I wanted to be left alone.<p>

I felt like dying.

I felt like Mikami did when he called me on the phone that one night.

Though, instead of jumping to my death; I thought I'd give myself a chance to breathe another few years.

But it didn't stop me from hurting myself.

That's when I started to cut.

I didn't start with the brutality that followed later; I had my first decent three cuts done in my bed, with the same pocket knife I tried to experience the pain the last time.

I let the blood trickle down my forearm, staring at the scarlet reservoir running down my flesh.

It... did... it calmed me down.

_ Mikami was right. Cutting helped get everything better. _

_Everything makes sense now... Whenever something goes wrong... I'll just cure it by cutting myself... _

* * *

><p><strong>Aftermath of Change | December<strong>

After releasing the pain, I huffed a long sigh on my bed, I sobbed myself asleep. I couldn't take the fact that two people I cared most about lied to me for all this time. That I really wasn't their beloved son. Not their real baby. Even though I was longing to forgive them, wanting everything to be the same as usual, wanting to forget that I didn't have to go see the stranger that called herself my mother; I wanted _revenge_, I wanted to ignore them, I didn't want to talk or see them.

I thought they were the reason I self harmed. I felt like they were the reason I pulled the blade out.

Of course I was wrong, but I honestly believed they were the reason I wanted to kill myself back then. As I said; I was really fucked up and snobby. Of course it wasn't Halle and Rod's fault.

I woke up Friday morning, eyes puffy, radiantly sad, red cracked veins inside them. In twelve long hours, I finally came out of my room. I shuffled to the kitchen. The environment of the whole house? It didn't feel the same. It still doesn't feel the same, though I've changed and accept this with all my heart, now. My wrists pierced and stung with pain. Clenching my teeth, trying to tolerate the stinging, I started to plaster the wounds over with band-aids. It took about four bandages to cover all three long cuts along my wrist.

And of course this had to be bad timing.

"M-Mihael?" Halle stepped into the kitchen, eyes puffy and red like mine. I have never seen her cry before, and this is the first time I have seen her from an aftermath of crying. I still haven't seen her shed a tear in front of me, though here I was seeing what she was like after a cry. I looked down in dead silence, an evil glare attacking the floor. I was ignoring her. It was hard, but I was trying my hardest to make her suffer from my silence.

"What happened to your arm? Why was it bleeding?"

Her tone was like an innocent little girl's that didn't understand why fucked up things happened in this fucked up world. I broke at the concerned innocence she was feeding down my conscience's throat,

"N-nothing!" I forced through my teeth, tone angry, and hurt.

"No! No! Don't you give me that! Something happened!" Tears rimmed her eyes. I jumped from her raised voice.

"I just fell, and skinned it... I fell off my top bunk... Sorry..." I tried my best not to stare up into her hurt eyes, but she was like a force that made you guilty, that you couldn't stop from looking at.

"Oh... Okay..." her innocent tone came out of her mouth again. I winced. It was like she knew, but was trying to tell herself more than anything it wasn't true her son abused himself like that. What was I talking about? I'm not her son... Though she still loved me like her own, and cared for me like I was her own. It all confused me why she didn't take the time to tell me the truth I wasn't really hers. It would've saved us all that hurt. Nothing was the same now because of her. Yes, I was positive back then that this was mostly her fault. Rod even admitted that telling me was needed earlier. She didn't.

I poured myself some Frosted Flakes, munched on them in pure silence, ignoring her stupid questions.

"How are you...?" Fuck you. You should know I'm not fine.

"Is everything okay...?" Fuck you. Of course it's not. Why would it be, stupid?

"Why are you ignoring me...?" Because. I hate you.

"How's school...? You ready for the... dance today...? Did you get a date...?"

Don't change the subject, School didn't do this to me. School didn't turn me into a train wreck.

I finished my cereal, and rushed to my room, slamming the door shut.

Another wave of guilt washed over me. I just ignored Halle, hurt her, and left her there, confused. Plus, I didn't do my homework. I ALWAYS did my homework. This was the first time I slacked off to do it. Actually, I don't even know how I can call this "slacking off" I was too mentally unstable to do it... I was busy... self harming... watching my own blood run down, staining pale red shades over my shining clear skin. It was no longer perfect. It was cut up. It was sliced. And only three cuts did the job. Everything was guilt. Everything.

Each incision carried my personal hell.

Halle, the scars I left on me, the undid homework that counted much on my grade. Everything was changing. It was the first time, and this wasn't a good first time.

For the first time, It wasn't nice to be me. _Mihael Keehl's perfect little life,_ was no longer perfect.

It was like taking Barbie out of her perfect playhouse mansion, and perfect life and friends. Away from Kelly, Ken and all her other Barbie perfect friends, and cutting her plastic throat off her plastic perfect toned body with rusty scissors. That's how I felt like. An old, abused Barbie doll, that every new emo Tween did to her old favorite toy in the end. She loved it when she was little, until she grew up and Barbie was no longer cool so she decided to dissect her. Now, none of Barbie's friends wanted to be Barbie anymore, I mean, she no longer had her head on her shoulders, her flashy designer clothes were no longer on her back. She was a naked plastic thing without a head collecting dust in an attic or rotting in a basement.

Same with me. No guy should no longer want to be me, or befriend me. No longer want to be the popular MVP, the one who gets perfect grades, all these girls asking me to dates and dances, parties, the guy who balanced all of this and still had great friends and a great chances to go to a fancy prep high school down in Manhattan. Because he wasn't really like that in reality anymore.

I was a washed up, headless Barbie.

I lost my perfect life.

Because, I scarred myself. Because I fucked up.

After pulling on jeans, and a shirt, I zipped up a hoodie, and pulled its hood over my head so far down it stretched over my eyes. I looked like some kind of dangerous crack dealing gang member. I felt like shit. I didn't want to wash my face, freshen up, or even put antiseptic over my stinging infected cuts. I just grabbed my untouched backpack with my untouched homework from yesterday, hauled it over my shoulders, and pulled out the dark Ozzy sunglasses from the back of my closet, (I dressed up as Ozzy for Halloween last year,) and placed the lenses over my stupid baggy, red, puffy eyes.

I didn't want everyone to see me like this. I didn't want everyone to see the headless Barbie.

I grabbed an energy drink out of the fridge, still ignoring Halle eating her beacon, eggs and coffee at the table.

"Whoa, you're ready earlier than I expected... I'm supposed to drive you to school, and I'm not even done eating..." she said a bit brash.

"Rod!" I called. I had never called Dad, 'Rod' before up until that point. All because Light was a bitch to his parents, I somehow started to think it was real cool for being such a jerk to mine. Rod stumbled out of the guest room, rubbing his eyes, his muffled tone piping up into the kitchen. My stomach dropped. He slept in the guest room tonight. Halle and him had a fight.

Like when he would come home drunk at one in the morning, she'd be worried sick all night and stay in the kitchen.

When he would come home, she was there, waiting for him, cooking something at one in the fucking morning to get her mind off of things. I'd be upstairs in my room, listening to the whole fight.

Halle raised her eyebrows at me in shock. I was acting like a total douche, but I felt totally cool at that moment.

"Yeah?"

"Drive me to school." I said dryly. It wasn't even a question. Rod's eyes widened.

"A-a-alright... I'll be out in a second."

"Um, okay, where is_ Mihael Keehl _and what have you done with him? Because what I see here is a total bitch." Halle sharpened her words at me. I rolled my eyes, and just mumbled a "Shut up." I was pushing my luck.

"What did you just say?!"

"Nothing."

Halle huffed and went back to her breakfast. This was the first time Dad ever drove me to school. I sipped an energy drink in the backseat.

"Jeez, Mihael, you're acting like a chick on her period..." Rod grumbled.

Silent treatment.

I watch the school's driveway close up by my window. I clicked open the door once the car was three feet away from the curb, still moving its tires along the concrete.

"Whoa! Whoa! What the hell, I was still driving, Mihael!" he yelled in annoyance.

Silent treatment.

"Have a great day." he said, almost sarcastic. I slammed the door with all I fucking had.

* * *

><p>I felt cool acting like jerk at school too.<p>

Though Light and Mikami made me angrier than any other kid that day.

"Yo, hotshot!" Light smacked me on the back, as I twirled around for my combination.

"Hey. How was the come down?" Mikami trailed behind him, his breath smelling heavily of toothpaste and bourbon.

He's been drinking his father's hidden basement stash in the mornings.

"Shut the fuck up." I barked hoarsely, once I opened up my locker.

"Whoa, someone woke up at the wrong side of the bed todayyy." Light laughed, licking the Breakfast yogurt off of his plastic spork.

Silent treatment.

I tried virtual breathing in and out inside my mind.

That doesn't work.

Anger boiling up in my blood.

Light waited for my response while he ate his strawberry-banana yogurt they sell in the cafeteria.

Mikami stayed silent. He was probably high off of something, in the first place.

"What's with the emolicious look, man?" Light laughed between swallows of the dairy, "Do you cut yourself, now?"

That was it.

"Fuck off, Light!" I snatched the spoon out of his hand and threw it across the hall.

Light jumped.

"Whoa man, calm down..." Mikami piped up, concerned.

"Sorry... Shit at home." I mumbled.

"'Skay, man, just cut out the emo act..." Light narrowed his eyes.

"Stop calling me that." I grabbed my needed textbook and binder, and we all started walking towards Biology.

Oh yeah, did I mention, perfect timing? Why did Mail decide to forgive me today?

"Hey Mihael!" he smiled his award winning giddy smile.

I was too depressed to say anything, and my Ozzy glasses blocked out my eyes, so it was impossible for anyone to tell where I was even looking.

Believe me, if I was my normal self, I would've rushed to him and gave him a tight hug, saying, "I missed you, please don't be mad at me again."

"Shut up, loser." Light hissed. I stayed silent this time.

It looked like I approved it, doing absolutely nothing to stop him from hurting my best friend. I saw it, ignored it and just let it happen.

Mail's smile faded once again, my heart tearing into pieces one more. I swore to myself if that ever happened again, I'd kill the one responsible.

I hated myself for doing nothing, feeling terrible just watching his smile collapse into a frown, though was glad for doing nothing because I was jealous. Jealous he could be happy. Jealous he was always happy. Watching Mail drown in sorrow was on the other hand perfect that day.

Sad he was hurt, happy he wasn't happy anymore.

Finally glad we were trailing away from Mail, no longer to torture myself with his fading grins, Mail spoke up.

After all those months of taking bullying from Light, and me doing simply nothing to stop him, he spoke up.

"Hey, Light?" his phlegmy voice spoke up.

Proud, craving for a swift reaction, longing for a comeback, shaking for the attention. I'll never forget that tone. It was one of the first times he used that kind of tone.

Light turned his head back over to Mail. So did Mikami. I just kept my neck drooping down, eyes dilating at my sneakers, not wanting to look at anyone.

"_What_?" Light drawled back.

"Fuck you." Mail spluttered out.

I turned around, astonished, feeling as if the glasses that were hiding my true complexion were going to slide off my face and unravel everything. My hurt, my surprise, my anger. I turn around to see Mail's middle finger up, directing to all of us.

I thanked Satan that I decided to wear the glasses this morning.

I thanked Buddha that Mail couldn't see the utter surprise my eyes had contained.

I thanked God that Mail finally stood up to us.

I still looked like a heartless robot outside, and I was somewhat loving it. I still had the poker face over my lips, and I was somewhat proud of keeping it plastered.

But on the inside I was detonation;

On the inside, I was sobbing, on my knees, my lips forming into a wretched frown.

I was telling him how sorry I was for fucking up. I was telling him how sorry I was for being alive.

"And as for you," Mail turned directly to me, his hazel burning eyes burned fiercely, "I thought I could expect better from _YOU_. I don't know who you are anymore..." his voice shook.

For a second I thought tears rose into his eyes, but maybe it was just a guilty hallucination.

Mail turned around and marched to class, and that was that. Funny how shocking things happen so fast, but last forever when you're in the middle of them in action.

Out of force, I sniffled. I wanted to break down and cry so badly. Hearing this, Light turned to me.

"Don't listen to him. You are who you are." he said with simplicity.

I wanted to sock him in the mouth.

Did Light ever have any guilt for anything?

Silent treatment.

Steaming tears.

Heartburn.

Fantasy of my own crimson blood, running down my wrists.

A wist of death.

* * *

><p>TO BE CONTINUED, or else, hell, the chapter would be way way way too long. Plus I'm not done with the last part; I mean it's written in my notebook; but not typed up yet.<p>

Well, I'll see you guys either next week; or in probably two or three days, I don't know.

But I hope ya'll are excited for the Part 2 of this chapter/Mello's past

I'm also so excited about the events that happen after Mello is done telling Near his story; I hope you are too.

Hint hint spoiler:_ [some cute fluffy stuff]_

- Jihad


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